


Hot Summer nights (in Xanadu)

by ThreeMagpies



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Blackout AU, Charlie and Bass are kidnapped but ok, Drugged Sleep, Gen, Hot summer Charloe, Shameless Smut, The Good Ship Charloe's Summer lovin fan fic fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7634080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeMagpies/pseuds/ThreeMagpies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Revolution fic (Blackout AU): Sebastian (Bass) Monroe/Charlotte (Charlie) Matheson, Charloe. Blackout AU. </p><p>A few days after Pottsboro, Bass and Charlie are on the road to Willoughby. Somewhere near the post-blackout Texas border, Charlie stumbles on a hidden garden while on a hunting trip and after she and Bass eat what she finds there, both of them fall into a deep sleep. They wake up in New Xanadu, a hidden underground community of preppers, scientists, artists, musicians, free thinkers and fighters. And in that place, and through some hot summer nights, things get hotter between them too… ☺</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Somewhere on the road to Willoughby, after Pottsboro.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LemonSupreme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonSupreme/gifts).



> N: Thank you so much for reading. This was my very first fanfic ever – and my first Charloe story too. It hasn’t been posted on Ao3 before but was on FF quite a while ago so some people may have read that version. I’ve been wanting to revisit for a while because although I really liked the story, I realized that it could do with some serious editing lol!! A special thank you goes to LoveForTheStory for being a wonderful soundboard again with this rewrite! Thanks so much Love!! Any errors are of course entirely my own. :D 
> 
> If you are revisiting this story, thank you so much for coming back and I hope you enjoy this new version… I'd like to gift it to LemonSupreme as a small thank you for her ongoing support and her generous and nurturing spirit. She encouraged me to start writing FF in the first place and I will always be so grateful. So thank you, Lemon!! xx and I hope you like this re-write :) In honour of the Good Ship Charloe summer lovin fic fest I’ve updated the title and made things a bit hotter lol! ☺

It had been four days and nights since the night Charlie woke up disoriented, confused, pissed off and sick to her stomach in that tumble down shelter to the sound of rain falling to find Sebastian Monroe sitting around the campfire a few feet away from her, eating beans. She was still angry with herself about falling for the drugs in the drinks trick. Should have known better, she’d been so stupid. 

She was also embarrassed that Monroe had been able to track her, angry and embarrassed for feeling grateful that he had, and confused and embarrassed about the fact that she kept noticing the blue of his eyes, the long, strongly muscled body that kept appearing in her dreams and the dark blond, crazy curly hair that made her wonder if it was as soft as it looked. 

She hated to admit it but even bruised and battered, his eyes hollow, red rimmed, his skin dry and peeling from the sun - so different from the smug, polished bastard she’d seen in Philly, he was still one of the most magnetic men she’d ever seen. This Monroe had a dark, barbaric killing edge that pushed all her buttons... She wouldn’t have believed that the pampered President Monroe could have killed all those men in that bar on his own. But she’d seen this man do it. 

The silent brooding thing of his was getting a bit old though. He’d saved her life twice now when you counted the Tower. You’d think he’d want to say something to her, even if it was just another ‘a thank you would be nice, Charlotte.’ 

She still didn’t know why he’d done it, or why he was so fixed on taking her to Miles and her mom… Was it really to try to make up for what he’d done like he’d said around that campfire? She knew exactly why she was still with him though. Pottsboro had damaged her, scarred her confidence and staying with the devil she knew, especially a devil this lethal, was a choice she was willing to make.

She slid another sideways glance at him. 

He was driving of course, his long, hard muscled body slumped against the backboard and the strong, handsome profile outlined against the blue of the summer sky. That unruly hair was blowing in the breeze, sweat was beading on his brow from the hot summer afternoon sun but apart from the dark shadows under his eyes and the lines around his mouth there were few signs of how brutally tired he had to be. 

After Pottsboro, and as soon as she could stand up without falling over, he’d got them moving and they hadn’t stopped since except to rest the horses at night and she didn’t think he’d slept for more than a few minutes at a time even then. 

Neither had she come to that, they were both on the edge. 

His shirt was open halfway down his chest, and though she tried to stop doing it her eyes kept focusing on the way the skin there gleamed in the sun, how the sweat ran in shiny streaks down over taut muscles, how his arms flexed as he flicked the reins with those long fingers and strong hands. She had a sudden vivid flashback to those hands holding swords back in that stupid fucking bar, blood dripping from the blade tips after he killed those guys to save her. And as her eyes dropped down to the long, strong legs, one stretched out in front of him, the other bent, boot braced on the footrest she knew she was in trouble. He wasn’t like other guys, ripe for a quick fuck and see you later maybe, like Jeff, this was… Him… Shit.

He kept his eyes straight ahead though, even though he had to know she was looking. He was always alert, aware of her, the road, the sounds around them, everything. She knew why, understood too. Bounty hunters had got the jump on him once and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. She wouldn’t either. The memory of him killing those creeps in Pottsboro swept through her in a hot lightening burst that shook her to her toes, again... He’d made it look so easy, his eyes burning, fierce, finding hers while his swords flashed and swirling droplets and trails of bright scarlet blood went flying like hot rain.

She looked away to hide what the thought of all that did to her, her thighs clenching on her throbbing clit, ass tense on the hard seat. A little moan escaped that she wasn’t able to catch in time…

The horses jumped as his hands tightened on the reins. ‘You ok?’ his voice was hoarse, creaky from exhaustion and disuse, those brilliant blue eyes turning to her for a second. 

She cleared her throat and reached for her water bottle, ‘yeah, I’m fine.’ 

An eyebrow lifted just a little but he kept his eyes to the front this time, ‘It’s been a long day, another few miles and we’ll pull over, then you can stretch your legs a bit.’

She shrugged, he was right. She was so over being cooped up on this fucking bench. ‘Good…’ she braced her feet on the boards, tightening her leg muscles, trying to ease the need without reaching down to rearrange her jeans because damned if she’d do that in front of him. He’d know for certain then. She was already pretty sure he’d guessed that she’d been having some…thoughts… about him, although he hadn’t said or done anything about it. The perfect gentleman... 

It was weird, she’d gone from thinking he was the worst person in the world to seeing him as something else, she wasn’t quite sure what that was yet. 

After their brief but riveting conversational exchange there was silence again, except for the sound of hooves on the broken bitumen, the creak of the harness and wagon wheels and the wind in the grass at the edge of the road along with the occasional bird. She yawned and went back to thinking about other stuff, anything to take her mind off what it would be like to fuck Sebastian Monroe.

And crap… it wasn’t working… She leaned back, closing her eyes, going over it all one more time. 

He’d barely said a word after the crack about her not having a choice about her taking him to Miles. In fact the conversation they’d just had had been the longest for days. It seemed to be a kind of unspoken agreement. She didn’t actively try to kill him or get away - for now anyway - and he didn’t initiate unnecessary conversation. 

It had suited her just fine in the beginning, but there were some questions she was burning to ask him now, questions about her mom, and Miles and the years after the blackout. How he and Miles had started the Republic and how and why it went wrong? Why he and Miles had kept her mom prisoner and why Miles had left Philly to hide out in Chicago? Why Miles still called him his best friend despite all of that? 

And why he hadn’t just gone to Canada or Cali or even further when everything fell apart? Somewhere no one would know him - especially with the size of the bounty on his head. And why had he let her go after New Vegas then followed and saved her life instead of just beating Willoughby out of her? After all, Miles would never have known that she hadn’t died on the road. 

Little things like that. 

All she really knew was that there was a lot more to Monroe than she’d thought…

She shuffled her butt and snuck another look. 

One of his eyebrows moved slightly and his lips twitched but apart from that… nothing. Nada.

She stretched and yawned again, spitting out a bug, shit… He was different to what she’d expected in other ways too. She’d heard about him and women, the stories had even reached Sylvania Estates. But there’d been no sign of anything like that with her. In fact he was being such a complete gentleman that it was starting to irritate the crap out of her. She hadn’t had any trouble with other guys liking her, quite the opposite in fact… so what was it with him?

The strange truce between the two of them was so new that she didn’t want to ask him anything yet. But it was still a long way before they got to Willoughby and somewhere between here and there she was going to get her answers. In the meantime, he didn’t treat her like a prisoner, she wasn’t tied up or anything, but he wore or had stashed somewhere she hadn’t found yet all of the actual weapons - even some of the cooking utensils. He hadn’t let her go hunting for fresh meat either, even though they could do with some. 

She didn’t blame him for being careful in fact she was kind of flattered that he bothered.

Her lips curved a little and her stomach rumbled in anticipation of food. He was just a bag of surprises… he’d turned out to be a good cook, a whole lot better than she was anyway – managing to turn the basic provisions the bounty hunters had had in the wagon into halfway decent meals so he’d mostly taken that role on, although he did let her do the cleaning up - except for the knives of course, he did those himself. 

She’d offered to take a turn at driving more than once too, but he just thanked her politely, or ignored her and kept going. He took care of the horses and for some reason she couldn’t work out the two big bays seemed to like him. He spent a lot of time during their breaks quietly grooming and talking to them while they grazed, his big hands gentle, his face unexpectedly peaceful and relaxed as he smoothed the glossy brown hides, brushing, stroking, caressing - it didn’t fit at all with the image of him as heartless General Monroe.

Then, each morning it was on to Willoughby, although she still hadn’t told him exactly where they were going and he hadn’t asked, not yet, although he knew they were heading towards Texas. 

She leaned her head back against the cushion of her jacket, her eyes drifting, unfocused....

To be truthful, she was still a little bit woozy after the drugs those morons had given her – and having Sebastian Monroe as back up was not a bad thing. In fact his presence was weirdly comforting, especially as she kept on having stupid flashbacks to being drugged and weak and falling down helpless in that bar. The part of her dreams where he came bursting through that locked door, his eyes like twin blue suns and his swords flashing like something out of one of Aaron’s stories was the only thing that had kept her from screaming the last few nights.

Things were different now, with him, and she didn’t know how to explain it to herself let alone anyone else, and she flatly refused to think of what Miles or her mother were going to say when she got back to Willoughby with him in tow. 

She yawned again, her eyelids drooping closed, her lips parting a little, her breath slow and even and her body relaxing into sleep, so she didn’t notice when he finally turned to look at her, his eyes curiously soft, pensive…   
……………………………………….

She was dreaming of New Vegas, of finding Monroe. She hadn’t been able to look away from the fight happening in that crowded, steamy and raucous tent – the memory of it still made her squirm, all of her hot, wet... He was all hard, coiled muscle and dangerous, focused intent. And so very beautiful, different though... now it was a hard, rough beauty, the General gone to hell and back, returning with electric shock eyes, a golden beard and slick, battle honed muscles. The poor guy they’d lined up to fight him hadn’t stood a chance. Sebastian Monroe had made beating him to a pulp look almost pathetically easy, the punches merciless, brutal and punishing but somehow impersonal, he wasn’t angry, he was just doing what he had to do to win... 

She was weaving through the crowd in the tent, like before, like always. Staring at him, keeping out of sight behind the cheering, shouting men and women. She was watching him so hard she was honestly surprised that he hadn’t felt her there. But then maybe he was just so used to women staring at him and…lusting… that he didn’t feel it anymore? She felt it though. And when the pretty blonde he’d gone to the roulette wheel with pressed her body up close, her lips almost touching his, Charlie had felt an almost irresistible urge to go and shove her through the walls of the tent...

A picture of Jeff, the ex Militia bartender who told her about having seen Monroe and sent her racing off to New Vegas slipped into her mind. He’d been cute and sweet and she’d liked him, but when she pictured him next to Monroe it was like putting a lanky, friendly puppy next to a wild timber wolf.

She jerked awake… Damn it she was waxing all poetic over Monroe, she so needed to get a grip. She leaned back again, trying to stay awake, but the rhythm of the hoof beats and the roll of the wagon were too hard to resist, lulling her back to a dozing dream...

She really had meant to kill Monroe then – it was kill him or give in to what was boiling in her veins, and killing him was easier, simpler. She nearly had too. But just when he was right there in her sights and she let off a shot those idiot bounty hunters arrived and both she and Monroe ended up in that empty pool. But somehow she knew that he wasn’t helpless, that he’d get away. In fact she had this crazy feeling that he was indestructible. He just kept surviving…everything.

Later, after he escaped - like she knew he would, after he stopped her to show her the wanted posters of her mom and told her she was taking him with her to Miles, she got so close when she told him he was delusional that she could smell his sweat, feel his breath and the heat of his skin, thinking weirdly that they both so needed a bath, and could see the bruises and the blood still wet on his face…

He hadn’t backed away though, and nor did she, and for long moments they just stared into each other’s eyes – almost close enough to kiss, the possibility of it making the air between them hot, charged. He had the most intensely blue eyes she’d ever seen although they flickered and changed with the light and the emotions behind them. It was like looking into the sky before a storm... 

She’d broken away from that gaze, turned on her heel and walked away. Told him he wouldn’t be able to track her but hadn’t really believed it, just dared him to shoot her if he wanted to stop her leaving. She knew he’d thought about doing it, had felt him watching, the gun pointed at her as she strode down that road, the rings on her belt jingling with the sway of her hips, the skin between her shoulder blades tingling with anticipation of a shot, or something else. But he just let her go … 

Then it was Pottsboro and the nightmare rose up again, the breath catching in her throat, her stomach churning as she remembered the men’s faces, their eyes, avid, bestial – the drugs they’d given her taking her strength away, leaving her helpless, everything hazy, like she was underwater and drowning… 

Then, like before, like always, Monroe burst in through the door, mowing through those men in the bar in a brutal, efficient, exhilarating display of swordsmanship and utter violence that she never got tired of reliving. In her drugged (and to be honest) despairing state – because she really thought she was going to die, he had appeared like some kind of angel – or devil. She wasn’t sure which and didn’t care. It was enough that he saved her life, again.

Her heart started pounding, her bones melting when she remembered the power and the strange, awful beauty of watching him kill for her. 

Pottsboro had changed everything…

………………..

She jerked awake as a thought struck her. After everything she’d seen of him, she had absolutely no doubt that she was better off with Monroe in a fight than with anyone else she could think of except Miles, and if there was a fight coming with the Patriots it made sense to have him along. The desire to kill him was getting more remote each day she spent with him too. But what did he really want? How far could she, they, trust him? She sighed and sat up straighter.

Monroe glanced at her, an ironic gleam in those blue eyes. ‘Rise and shine, Charlotte.’ 

She glared at him, rubbing the stiffness out of her neck as well as the echo of that pool…realizing how long the shadows were now. She’d been asleep for a couple of hours at least and he’d taken them off the road to a clearing in the woods and the glint of the river was just a little way away.

………………………

Later, once they’d set up camp, she stretched out on an old blanket around the campfire after a meal from their dwindling supplies that even Monroe couldn’t make more than barely edible.

He leaned back against one of the wagon wheels, stretched out those long legs and looked at her by the glow of the firelight. There was no moon tonight and the stars were like a glittering, beautiful blanket above them. 

He was oiling a piece of the horse’s tack, hands moving surely and smoothly over the leather and metal with a piece of rag. ‘Maybe its time you started pulling your weight, Charlotte.’ 

She sat up, startled…

He didn’t smile, just looked at her with those solemn and somehow remote blue eyes. ‘You tracked me to New Vegas, and you survived on the road so I’m guessing you can hunt. We could do with some fresh meat and anything else you can find.’ His hands kept moving over the leather with easy strokes but his gaze held hers…

‘I’m a good tracker but if you want me to actually catch anything I’ll need my knives and crossbow’, her head tilted slightly, a challenge in the set of her full mouth and the narrowed eyes. 

Bass could see her dimples flicker in the firelight and wondered if she knew how absolutely gorgeous she was, even sweaty, filthy dirty and looking as though she’d been dragged through a ditch a few times. He was just as filthy though… shit, he was even getting used to the smell. Then he put thoughts like that about her away for now anyway, he needed her to trust him, not see him as a predator like those creeps in that fucking dung heap of a bar. 

He took a breath and leaned forward again, putting the leather and rag down, rubbing his hands together to relax the muscles. The firelight made his eyes gleam in the shadows of his face. ‘Ok’ he said, nodding slightly, the edges of his mouth lifting a little. ‘You can have a crossbow and bolts for hunting and knives for butchering.’ 

Her eyes narrowed and her lips twisted into a sharp grin at that, ‘So you’ll just trust me?’ 

His lips curved a little more, the truth was that he didn’t want to have to hurt her if she tried anything… but she was a tricky thing and he wasn’t going to underestimate her. ‘I think you’re someone who keeps their promises, but there’s more…’

That deliciously curved eyebrow of hers lifted, ‘what more?’

He nodded, unable to resist the temptation, ‘you’ll give me your word you won’t try to kill me, incapacitate me or do anything to stop the two of us getting to Miles and your family.’

Her grin turned into the one he remembered from the pool, the wicked, smart ass one. ‘And what if I don’t give you my word?’ 

Bass got to his feet to return the tack to the wagon, standing there for a moment, serious now, ‘I think you’re smarter than that, Charlotte.’ 

She looked up at him, she could still see his eyes, they gleamed blue and even with him standing up they seemed to hold on to her… ‘So you’ll just believe me?’ she challenged again. 

His lips tightened, his face very serious and he nodded. ‘Yeah, I’ll just believe you…’

She shrugged, at least she’d get to go hunting, and get some alone time, and it wasn’t as though she was planning to kill him or leave right now anyway. ‘Ok then, I give you my word.’

…………………………………………………………..


	2. Garden of delights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoy this next bit, ☺

Monroe had kept his side of the deal, and it was just before dawn with the summer stars still shining overhead when she headed out and as she walked, Charlie sucked in a big breath of the sweet, fragrant air, a smile a mile wide on her face.

It felt so good to be back to the familiar rhythms of hunting, tracking, and foraging and she was totally fucking happy to be moving under her own power. Not used to sitting still so much, her butt felt flat, her body stiff and her muscles sore from riding in the wagon for so long. She did some stretches and ran a bit to loosen up, her steps getting lighter as she went.

She and Monroe had found a couple of hessian bags in the wagon and she’d brought them along for any nuts, berries, greens that she could find and there’d been some string to tie up small game too. Anything larger than rabbits though and she’d have to make herself a travois. 

She had her own crossbow back too – Adam and the other bounty hunter had kept it and Monroe had found it in the wagon. She reached back and patted the stock, enjoying the familiar weight on her shoulders. Her knives and her pack had been in the wagon too – and her blades were back in their proper places on her belt.

The ground felt good under her feet, the sun was rising, hot and brilliant, turning the sky into a gold and blue glory and the air was full of the sound of birds. 

Things were definitely looking up… 

……………………………….

The country was heavily wooded with hills surrounding her, ranging off into the distance – she thought there might be caves maybe? Not good crop farming country – more hill country grazing, although she hadn’t seen any traces of larger domestic animals as yet. She kept her eye out for predator tracks too. Packs of dogs and wolves had been appearing in larger numbers – bears too and some of the big cats, native or escaped from zoos and private collections. Thriving with fewer people around, plenty of game and the return of clean wilderness….

She headed downhill towards the river – it was fast running in places but broad and deep, maybe good fishing pools somewhere? She noted that for later - then almost immediately found rabbit sign. After that it was so easy she took three in quick succession and was after a fourth when she spotted something interesting in a clearing up ahead. If it was in fact what it looked like, their diet would be improved by about a million percent because she was completely over beans, even though Monroe somehow managed to make them taste ok. 

Moving quietly and carefully between the trees towards the vivid colours and assorted greens of the hopefully abandoned garden, she brushed aside a curling tendril from a leafy vine hanging down across her path, frowning as it caught her hand, sticky, the tendril twining round her fingers as though she was a branch or something... She shook it off and kept going, focused on the garden. Something in all that greenery had to be in season and ready to pick…

Above her head, the vine pulled back on itself, shivering and retracting its leaves against the thick, flexible stem, the reaction spreading and continuing out of sight along the stem through the trees until the end of it disappeared into a small cave at the foot of a hill a few hundred yards away…

…………………………………….

In the garden Charlie looked around her, taking another bite of a crunchy, heavenly apple. It was early for apples but somehow these were ripe, ready. Everything was. It was a little weird but she’d seen weirder things and she’d survived the apple, so...

The place was wild, overgrown and she’d found no recent traces of people. The house nearby was a ruin, the walls fallen, nothing standing but the chimney. The local wildlife had been having a wonderful time though, rabbits were everywhere, she’d seen a few deer, some old dog or wolf scat, wildcat too and the place was alive with birds... 

As well as the apples, she’d found edible tubers, tomatoes, snake beans and carrots and plenty of other stuff… There were even some oranges still on their trees, as well as some herbs and useable greens all growing wild; she was salivating just thinking of what Monroe would make out of all of it. 

She’d have to come back to get more though, and with a travois, her bag was almost too heavy to carry already. 

There were a couple of pumpkins still sitting after last season, their tough skins mostly protecting them from insects and birds. She made room for them in the bag. And there were Passionfruit vines with a few ripe fruit hanging like dark treasures... She ate three of those, couldn’t resist, licking the insides of the tough shells to get every last drop of juice. It sparkled on her tongue like sunshine. 

She saved two for Monroe, feeling generous... 

A familiar scent caught her and she looked around. There was a honeysuckle vine growing over the remains of a brick wall, the flowers like a white curly carpet and smelling amazing... She’d always loved the scent of honeysuckle and for a moment was back with Danny and her Dad in Maggie’s garden in Sylvania, before Neville and the Militia had come and turned her world upside down following Sebastian Monroe’s orders. 

So much had happened since then, so much had changed.

She sighed and picked some of the flowers, burying her face in the richly scented mass, breathing it in, letting the delicious smell go deep into her lungs, then sucking the honey from some of the ripe flowers like she used to do as a kid. She sighed again, but she was feeling so good, and so, so glad to have found all of this; Monroe was going to be seriously impressed…

She packed up as much as the bags would hold, time to go back…she hadn’t realised how much time she’d spent in the garden and it was heading towards noon. She’d be lucky if Monroe didn’t think she had broken her word and walked away. 

Or think that something had happened to her - again. 

She headed out, focused on getting back, the sun hot on the back of her neck, the sky a dazzling blue…

She didn’t notice the man and woman dressed in forest camouflage, their faces streaked green and blue, watching her from behind the Honeysuckle wall. And she had absolutely no idea that they were following her.

…………………………………………………………..

As Charlie got near the camp, her legs and arms aching with the load, she caught sight of Monroe through the trees and stopped, her bags slipping unnoticed to the ground. A weird mix of images from Gould’s tent and Pottsboro went crashing through her mind as her eyes were caught and held by the sight of him.

Monroe was in a clear space near their camp, practicing with his swords, both of them. Bare to the waist, he was moving through a complex set of graceful movements and fast, dangerous looking turns, his swords snapping through the air with incredible precision and speed. He was covered in sweat, dripping with it – which only made his muscular chest, six pack and powerful arms look more… Well, just more. 

Her mouth dropped open, tongue dipping out over suddenly dry lips and her whole body revving up to instant high fucking alert.

She couldn’t look away, didn’t want to – he seemed to glow with an amazing energy and a masculine, sexual power with the afternoon sun outlining him and his swords in a hot golden haze and it rocketed straight to every single one of her major and minor erogenous zones as her mind conjured up the possibility of wild and probably incredible sex with Sebastian fucking Monroe. Because having wild and incredible sex with him was what she really, really wanted to do, right here, right now. 

Shit. She was so in trouble. 

He knew she was there, of course he did…

He slowed his movements and glanced over at her, but didn’t actually stop, his arms sweeping the swords in graceful arcs around his head, the rest of him turning in a circle that followed the swords. ‘I was beginning to think I might need to go find you again.’ 

She stared in a kind of delirium of awareness. It had been a perfect demonstration of a move she’d seen Miles make too, back at that hotel in Chicago. He wasn’t even out of breath and somehow he looked energised, not as tired... She really felt like fanning herself but reached for her water bottle instead, ‘I found some great stuff and forgot the time.’ She took a good, long swallow then poured some of the water over her head, shaking it off, drops going down her neck and between her breasts, making her shiver with the sensation of cold on her hot skin...

He finished the exercise and stopped, facing her, his chest rising and falling with his breath, a line of sweat gleaming down to his belly button, and lower, ‘what did you find?’

She sucked in a breath…

He walked smoothly towards her, sliding both swords neatly and without looking into the sheaths on his hip, stopping just out of reach but so close that she was finding it even harder to think straight and her insides were just… melting… She could smell him, the heavy, male scent of sweat and exertion…

‘Charlotte, you’re incredible’ he looked down at her collection, shaking his head. Then he grinned at her, teeth gleaming and eyes crinkling blue. “You said you were good but you didn’t tell me you were some kind of a witch…’

She swallowed and let out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. ‘Hey,’ she shrugged, trying be nonchalant but wandering how she was going to stop herself jumping his bones if he came any closer ‘I got lucky.’

He knelt down in front of her to inspect what she had found, his heart and jugular vulnerable, open to attack if she chose to take the opportunity. A show of faith? A deliberate temptation? 

‘Where did you find all this?’ He looked up at her...

She ran her tongue over dry again lips. His back was long and smooth, the curved sweep of gleaming, muscle and bone contoured flesh ending at the loose waistband of his worn jeans, the dimples on either side of the base of his spine and the faintest trail of golden hairs disappearing into a shadowed cleft revealing a tempting glimpse of the tops of his ass cheeks… Shit… and she actually had to clench her fists to keep her fingers from reaching out to follow a drop of sweat as it rolled down and disappeared down between...

She cleared her throat, a helpless little sound. He was so close. She’d just have to reach out to touch him and then there’d be no going back, no stopping what would happen next…

Bass kept still, smiling on the inside because he didn’t want to spoil this moment. She was thinking about him, thinking about how it could be between them. He’d felt her eyes during the trip, felt her frustration, her arousal… and having her wanting him might be just enough to get the stubbornly independent Charlotte Matheson to feel like staying. Because he really wanted, needed her on his side. 

He breathed her in, her rich, ripe, vibrantly female scent, knew she’d almost made up her mind.

But to his surprise although one of the things he liked most about her was that fierce Matheson spirit, Charlie rallied quickly and flashed him that cheeky, wicked grin of hers, giving him an appreciative once over, a searing glance that lingered on his bare chest and arms, slanted to the swords on his hip - and down further - then slid up again to his eyes. Yet another challenge from her that kept him on his knees for a slightly more pressing reason than admiring her fruit and vegetables. 

He’d definitely give away the effect she had on him if he stood up now and damn if he wasn’t getting to really respect this girl, and not just because she was a Matheson. Although he already counted her as one of his own because of that.

Then he caught another scent, sweetly familiar. ‘Where the hell did you find honeysuckle? I love honeysuckle, it takes me back to when I was a kid...’ He picked up a couple of blooms and sucked the honey out, licking his lips and humming in pleasure as the taste hit his tongue… 

She smiled, a real smile, something she felt come from inside, because Monroe looked younger, almost like an ordinary human doing that. It was such a sweet, ordinary thing to love, not something she’d have connected to him if she hadn’t seen it for herself. ‘I found kind of a… What did you call it before the blackout? A big market? Aaron used to talk about them, places that had everything you could ever need.’ 

He chuckled, putting everything back in the bags, hanging on to another couple of blooms. ‘We called them supermarkets. Although they weren’t really as good as they sound’

She shrugged, ‘Aaron seemed to like them,’ she looked at the bag. ‘But it was a bit like that, there were plants everywhere, everything was ready to pick, and there were so many things to choose from, it was like our town garden, but with everything in season at the same time. It was a bit strange I guess, but maybe it’s the climate here?’ 

‘No people?’

‘I didn’t see anyone, there was an old house, all fallen down, no sign of anyone there for a long time…’ She shrugged again, ‘it was just an old garden,’ She looked at him, her eyes intent, ‘Seriously though, will you teach me how to do what you were doing?’

He was honestly confused for a moment, ‘what, suck honeysuckle?’ 

She sighed and looked at him as though he had grown another head. ‘No, Monroe…’ She leaned over, giving him a very nice view down of her high, rounded breasts down the front of her tank top and taking the flowers, leaving him the bag and the string of rabbits to carry. Then she stood back up. ‘What you were doing over there,” she tipped her head towards where he had been practicing.. “I want you to teach me that.’ She sauntered over towards the campfire, hips swaying and belt rings jingling with that ‘look at my ass’ walk of hers. Then looked back at him over her shoulder. ‘After you fix us dinner.’ 

……………………………………

Later, in the rosy light of a beautiful sunset and with a full and satisfied stomach for the first time in what seemed like a really, really, really long time, Charlie let out a long, happy sigh and relaxed back against her improvised pillows. ‘That was so, fucking, good…’ 

Monroe leaned over the pot, filling his bowl again, ‘you find it and I cook it. It’s a team thing…’ 

She considered that and shrugged a little – she wasn’t ready to agree that there was a team thing - yet anyway. But that had been a wonderful meal. Even the horses were happy, they had had a carrot each and the expression on their horsey faces as they munched had been worth more than a few diamonds.

‘There’s a lot more stuff in that garden” she rolled over onto her belly to find him disconcertingly close, his body big, outlined in colours from the sky. His eyes were gorgeous, almost lavender in the evening light, with flickering highlights in them from the flames of the campfire. She stared at them. He really did have beautiful eyes. ‘We should go back and get some for the road.’ Her voice tailed off and she yawned. She was so sleepy.... 

Monroe must have caught the yawn bug and had his own moment. He shook his head, trying to clear it, then he grinned, ‘must be having a full belly for the first time in ages.‘

She studied him, her eyes dreamy, a little unfocused. His teeth were very straight and white, he had really wonderful cheekbones too, and she loved the beard, ‘do you want to share watch tonight?’ 

The grin got wider then he shook his head. ‘Thanks, but it’s ok. I’m fine… but maybe tomorrow? And we can go back to your garden tomorrow too, I don’t think the rabbits will eat it all before then.’

His voice was husky, a little slurry and it slid down her spine like fingers stroking her skin. She shivered, wondering what it would be like to curl up close to him, press herself against that long, strong body, actually feel his hands on her, his mouth on hers. She cleared her throat, maybe that could be tomorrow too, if he was very lucky. ‘Ok, don’t say I didn’t offer,’ she wasn’t that sorry though, could barely keep her eyes open, another yawn taking her over… 

He yawned again too. ’Offer duly noted. We’ll leave the sword prac till tomorrow too, it’s getting too dark anyway’, he sat up straight, taking a few deep breaths and running a hand through his hair, ‘I’ll go and do a perimeter run to wake myself up in a minute...’ Then he looked over at her again, his face, serious, eyes solemn but with a wicked challenge simmering below the surface. ‘I’m happy to teach you, Charlotte’, he moved his head in a small bow towards her, ‘but I usually like to practice with as few clothes on as possible, it makes reflexes sharper and the whole thing a lot more interesting.’ He leaned a little closer, ‘will that be a problem for you?’

Charlie’s eyes opened wide and she looked sideways at him. Did he mean that, or was he making a joke, or was he actually flirting with her? 

Then his lips twitched just a tiny bit. 

She found an apple core by her right hand and threw it with the last of her energy – getting him square above the left eye, ‘bastard’, although she was grinning too, yawning at the same time. She could give as good as she got, and she’d show him as soon as she could stay awake enough to do it. She sank onto her blanket with a sigh, everything, even him, getting fuzzy and far away…

‘Hey!’ he play frowned, wiping the apple juice off his face with a long finger, but inside he was glad to know that the Monroe charm still worked – even on this stubborn, opinionated, infuriating and utterly fascinating Matheson. He blinked, eyes heavy, and just for another minute, he lay back down against the pile of stuff he had as a pillow. It was so quiet and peaceful here. The horses were calm, relaxed and grazing nearby and they’d let him know if there was a problem. It felt safe to leave the perimeter check for just a little bit longer. 

It had been a long, long time since he felt this relaxed, this safe, anywhere, with anyone... 

He looked over at Charlotte. He knew she preferred Charlie but her full name suited her and he was the only one who seemed to use it and he liked that - a lot. She was already asleep, tiny little snores escaping through those gorgeous lips, her body relaxed into gentle, sweet curves… 

He smiled, eyes lazy as he watched her, gentle and sweet weren’t really words he’d apply to her when she was awake but they suited her right now... And he was actually looking forward to tomorrow for the first time in what felt like forever too. She had made life interesting again.

Then he reminded himself firmly that this was Charlotte Matheson – and that he shouldn’t take anything for granted. 

His jaw cracked in another yawn. It was a warm evening but getting cooler, and the thought occurred to him that maybe he should get up and put a cover over her so she didn’t get cold later. But somehow he just couldn’t get himself up off his ass to do it, just couldn’t get up the energy to move… He melted back into his bedroll, his eyes fluttering closed, and even though he tried, they just wouldn’t stay open.

Some still almost alert and eternally paranoid part of his mind was trying really hard to wake him up, shouting out a warning that there was something wrong, something off... But he really couldn’t pay attention to it right now, the bed was soft and warm and he was so comfortable, so sleepy… 

He fell into warm, soft darkness…

………………………………………..

A little way away from the camp in the cover of some trees the man and woman from the garden watched and waited, and a few minutes later several other men and women – all in the same forest camouflage - appeared from out of the woods and moved up to join the first two. 

It wouldn’t be long until it was safe to approach. The combination of soporifics in the genetically altered vegetables and herbs would keep their two visitors asleep and unaware for several hours, time enough for them and their belongings to be moved to New Xanadu. 

William and the others would be very pleased. It was rare that such interesting people passed their way. Hopefully they’d want to stay.

It wasn’t as if they could just have open days to invite new people in to have a look. The community was hidden for a very good reason. The world was very, very far from being a safe place and the only way to be safe was to stay secret. 

It was a system that had worked well for years now, and if people chose not to stay in Xanadu? 

Then all they remembered was a dream, a fantasy, and soon, even that faded away…

…………………………………………………..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thanks so much for reading!! ☺ There’ll be more very soon… cheers, Magpie


	3. In Xanadu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: thanks so much for reading, and for some lovely comments ☺ and I really hope you enjoy this next bit. The title is of course from the poem by S T Coleridge… Oh, this one just kept going, lots of background stuff and getting things happening!! Hope you don’t mind that it’s a bit long ☺

Bass Monroe slowly became aware of lying on something soft and thick. Nothing hurt, except for a slight headache, and after cautious testing, he found that he wasn’t tied up either. Maybe his luck had changed? And maybe pigs had pixie wings. 

He didn’t try to move, not yet anyway, testing the air, smelling flowers, earth and stone, water, feeling a sense of space around him, warmth on his skin, light through his eyelids, the sound of trickling water... What was really weird was that he thought he could hear children’s voices whispering and giggling somewhere nearby. Then the tap tap of several small running feet coming towards him and stopping a few yards away to his left. 

He cracked his eyes open, looking towards the sound and met two sets of eyes, one blue the other dark brown – both fixed on him. The eyes belonged to two girls, eight or nine years old maybe, dressed in clothing that looked like they’d been taken from the props department of GOT or maybe early Mad Max. Both were staring at him with the total focus and unselfconscious curiosity of kids. 

He had a vague impression of a large, airy space full of colours and light behind them. Daylight, early though, and last time he looked it had been sunset… How long had he been out of it?

Blue eyes, (blonde with tumbling curls, long light green elf dress) turned to Brown (shining, crow black hair sliding over Mad Max leathers, feathers and face paint) and whispered something behind her hand, then both girls giggled and smiled at him, eyes bright, admiring... 

This was crazy, he had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, but he felt his lips curve in an answering smile before a wave of vertigo crashed over him. He closed his eyes again.

Shit…He snapped awake, heart pounding - Charlotte! Where was Charlie?? 

His whole body tensed, ready to move, run, fight… then he saw her, off to his right, lying on her side close enough to touch. She looked peaceful, gorgeous, not hurt. Her eyes were closed and she was in the clothes she’d had on last night, breasts moving with her breath against the tattered edge of her tank. One long dark golden strand was curled between them, caught under the curved weight of a breast and her arm, the rest of her hair scattered around her head in a thick, tangled mass. She was on a flat, padded mattress, a multi-coloured cushion under her head, one arm curved around it, her cheek pressed against the fabric and a little line of drool shining at the corner of her mouth... 

Something deep down inside him relaxed, just a little. Ok a lot... But he still had to work out where the fuck they were, what the fuck was happening and how to get them the fuck out of here back to the real, dirty world… 

He glanced at the kids, they were looking at Charlie now, whispering, still smiling… then he looked down at his feet, their backpacks were sitting on the floor, although he couldn’t see any of his weapons. 

He looked around next. They were in a big, no make that an enormous oval room. High above, a domed ceiling let shafts of daylight in from light wells set into the stone and big, circular bronze mirrors spaced at angles around the walls reflected a golden light around the high, airy space. He saw colours and shapes on the distant walls, paintings or murals? Tall stone archways leading out, columns set in graceful receding lines off into the distance. Classical statues mixed with more modern sculpture, carved urns and ornate wall sconces for torches and tall, leadlight lamps sent rainbows dancing through fountains made of carved stone, silver and bronze. There were plants of all sizes everywhere, tall palms swayed in huge, painted pots and vines clung to the walls, twining around the columns... 

Maybe they’d fallen into some crazy pre-blackout film studio or billionaire’s retreat…

‘Are you a warrior? The scouts said you were really good with your swords.’ A sweet, clear young voice interrupted his thoughts.

‘And you look pretty strong.’ A second voice, a little lower, husky, awed… 

He looked at the two girls, their faces full of curiosity and totally unafraid and found himself gripped by a sudden, vivid memory of his lost little sisters. He had to swallow past the lump in his throat - and the hole still in his heart.

He smiled at them gently, turning onto his side. ‘I am’ he said evenly, smiling into each set of curious eyes in turn, ‘and I think your scouts must have seen me practicing,’ He widened his smile, ‘they’re good at hiding aren’t they?’

Both small heads nodded.

‘They train really hard.’ Brown eyes looked at him, eyes sparkling. ‘Is she a warrior too?’ Her eyes darted to Charlie…

He nodded. ‘Yes, she is.’ He was hoping that Charlie was truly still asleep or he would never live this down. ‘She’s a warrior, a hunter and a great tracker and she was the one who found your garden.’ That was the most logical option. There must have been something in the food. 

They didn’t seem surprised, interesting… 

‘I’m training to be a Scout’, brown eyes said earnestly ‘but my teachers say I could be a good singer too if I wanted.’ 

He nodded, considering, ‘that’s a hard choice to make, they’re both good things to be… maybe you could be a singing Scout?’ 

She gave him a wide delighted grin, ‘yeah’

Blue eyes glanced at her friend, then back at Bass. ‘I’m studying the stars,’ her eyes went very wide… ‘And last month we watched the moon turn red! It was a lunar eclipse!’ She seemed to be trying to make as big an impression on him as her friend.

He grinned, enjoying himself in spite of the surreal situation, although it was bittersweet, it had been a very long time since he’d had a conversation like this. ‘I wish I’d seen that.‘ he smiled at them, feeling his muscles stretch into half remembered brotherly indulgence.

Both girls blushed and giggled... 

He had a flashback to what he had actually been doing back in New Vegas during that eclipse and the smile faded a little, that wasn’t something he’d be sharing with these two. 

While they were talking he’d been checking the area around them – trying to locate the watchers he knew must be there. Maybe some of the scouts the girls were so proud of, who were so good at hiding? No luck yet... 

He was looking forward to meeting them.

Then both pairs of eyes slanted behind him and dropped to the ground, suddenly shy. Brown eyes turned and whispered something behind her hand to Blue then they both turned to him, expectant, excited. 

He sat up and turned around, relieved she was awake...

Charlie was half sitting up, leaning on a shaky arm, looking at him as though she had never seen him before. Her gaze moved to the two girls, her eyes wide, then back at him, then around the cavern, then her bag, then back at him, confusion and alarm building in the blue. 

Shit. He needed her to calm down before she set off an alarm or something worse, ‘Charlie, take it easy.’ His finger went up in a ‘ssh....’ motion to his mouth, and he tipped his head towards the girls. ‘It’s ok, I don’t think we’re in trouble right now, they’re checking us out...’ 

She looked at him, her eyes blank, a little dazed. ‘Where are we? What’s happening?’ 

‘Don’t know yet, but I’m sure we’re going to find out.’ He put on what he hoped was a reassuring smile then tapped the side of his mouth with a long finger. 

She frowned, managing to focus on him. ‘What?’ Then understanding ran across her face and she wiped the drool away with a shaky finger, ‘Oh…’ She took a deep breath, ‘well, wherever we are it smells a whole lot better than Pottsboro.’

‘Good girl.’ He was impressed. Gotta love that Matheson bounce back. ‘I don’t know where we are yet but we’ll work it out, so take it easy.’ 

She took another breath, making herself relax… 

He watched as she pulled herself together, started to check things out, her eyes searching, opening wide in surprise, then wincing shut at the light. She’d had more of the stuff than him, especially the fruit. He’d actually been amazed at how much she could pack in, and her body mass was a lot less than his so she’d be effected more and for longer. 

‘Shi...Damn it,’ she glanced at the kids then ran a hand through her hair. ‘Why do people keep drugging me?’

‘I can explain.’ A new voice, adult and female came from somewhere near one of the pot plants, from a hidden speaker maybe? ‘We hoped that you might find the presence of the children reassuring when you woke up… I promise you we mean you no harm. In fact I hope we can help each other. ’ 

Bass levered himself to his feet, his head still swimming a little.

The girls smiled up at him and down at Charlie, had another whispered conversation then turned and ran towards one of the archways.

Charlie watched them go, bemused. ‘This place is getting more and more interesting.’ She got up onto her knees, leaning on one hand, her other holding her head. ‘Damn…I feel like I’ve been stomped on by a cow...’

He reached a hand out to help her up. ‘Me too, it’s wearing off fast though.’

She took it, fingers dry and strong in his, her eyes meeting his for a brief, searing moment. ’Thanks, Jimmy.’ 

Jimmy? Charlie was protecting him. A couple of days ago he wouldn’t have believed that she’d do that. But things had changed. In fact there’d been moments around the campfire last night where he thought that things had changed a lot… Still, they had to find a way out of here, back to the world of bounty hunters and Patriots and to finding Miles and Rachael with all the crap that that little issue brought with it. He knew he was right though. Her family were going to need him, even if they didn’t want him. 

Then she was standing beside him, her hand sliding out of his to settle on his forearm. He could feel her shaking with the effort to stand straight but she did it and as he watched her determination and spirit, Bass was rocked by a wave of possessiveness that shocked him to the core and he fought the urge to move a little closer in case she needed it. Shit. He was way beyond just wanting her to be on his side to help him with Miles. Charlie wasn’t just gorgeous, she was smart and independent, a brave fighter, as well as reckless and stubborn and… He groaned quietly. He could feel himself falling and falling hard, which was such a totally bad fucking idea. He’d found a woman who was everything he wanted and it turned out to be Charlotte Matheson. It had to be some kind of bad cosmic joke… 

Charlie glanced up at him, there were lines of tension around his eyes and the arm under her hand was rigid. She squeezed, ‘the mystery voice said they didn’t mean us any harm and the kids were really cute,’ she shrugged, ‘I’ve woken up in plenty of worse places. Maybe this is kind of like a nice family version of New Vegas.’ 

He chuckled, relaxing just a little, ‘New Vegas was never nice.’

There were footsteps behind them and they both swung round to look.

The couple of dozen men and women approaching them – all in forest camouflage, were hard to see against the tapestry of colours and shapes behind them, even to a trained eye like his, but it actually made him feel better about whoever was running this place to see them. There was no way he’d let any kids he cared about get that close to strangers without protection.

They were all armed with bows, knives, swords and guns of a type that he wasn’t familiar with, which was interesting all on its own. They also seemed well trained and he approved of the way that they made sure they kept him in line of sight, although at least four were keeping their focus on Charlie, which was sensible. 

‘He’s a warrior Petra. He said so.’ The voice came towards them, bright, already familiar, Brown eyes… 

‘His lady is too, Aunt Petra, and she’s a hunter and a tracker, so she’s kind of like a scout.’ The voices of the two girls rose in a bright chorus and Bass turned his attention away from the guards back towards the girls and the woman they were walking with.

‘Can we show them the movie of the Eclipse? Please?’ blue eyes said, ‘they missed the real one…’ 

Charlie was a bit startled – she had watched it with… well whoever he’d been, she was a little bothered to find she couldn’t remember his face – or his name. 

Bass was looking at the girls, surprised. Movie?

‘Shh girls, we can talk about it later, now I think it’s time for your next class?’ Petra had smooth golden skin with straight black hair and black tilted eyes, it was hard to tell her age but there was something about her that said that she was older than she looked. She was dressed to match the setting in a long, green velvet dress.

Bass was beginning to sense a theme.

The two girls looked disappointed but nodded, glancing back at Bass and Charlie. 

Both sets of eyes lingered on him. 

Charlie rolled her eyes, the charm thing he had happening even seemed to work on children for craps sake. Though he had been so gentle with them, and kind of sweet…as though he really liked kids. She sighed - it was getting hard to reconcile all the various aspects of Sebastian Monroe. 

Her hand tingled from the contact with his arm, the muscles hard beneath her fingers. She still felt woozy and it had been a weird relief to find him there when she woke up in a strange place after being drugged yet again. It seemed all very nice here, the children, the pretty things and the long dresses, but they still didn’t know what to expect. It could all go very wrong. Being cautious was sensible, and so was hiding Monroe’s identity because the last thing she wanted right now for all sorts of reasons was to have someone recognise and shoot him, or sell him to bounty hunters. 

She looked up at his face and met his eyes looking back at her, full of an intensity that she felt echoing deep in her bones. She kept her grip on his arm, and not just because she was worried about falling over. Things in her life just kept on getting stranger. She and Sebastian Monroe had somehow become partners.

The girls smiled and bowed politely to all three of them. Brown eyes snuck another quick peek at Bass then both ran lightly out through a nearby archway.

And then they were alone, with about twenty soldiers armed to the teeth and a woman in a party dress. Charlie cleared her throat and smiled, ‘Nice place you’ve got here.’ 

There was a small but elegant wooden table and several chairs nearby and the Asian woman smiled. ‘We think so,’ then she indicated the chairs with one graceful hand. ‘As I think you’ve guessed by now, my name’s Petra. Please sit and I’ll explain where you are and how you got here.’ 

Once they were all seated round the table, like they were at a dinner party, a round faced, round bodied, blue eyed man, with a shock of white hair and dressed in a brightly coloured, tie-dyed monk’s habit came through a nearby archway and brought a tray with several glasses, a jug of water and one of what looked like orange juice to the table. He smiled at them all and set the tray down in front of the woman, ‘Howdy folks, and welcome,’ he patted Petra on the shoulder, ‘Fresh squeezed, just as you like it...’ He nodded at Bass, winked at Charlie and left. 

Charlie watched him walk away. The guy had had a kind face although the outfit was… wow... She blinked, glad she was sitting down because everything was going fuzzy again. 

Bass looked at the jugs, remembering the drugged fruit... 

Petra took a breath, ‘It’s just fruit juice and water, nothing else, I promise.’ She poured herself a mixed glass from both jugs and drank it down. ‘Please drink, it’ll help you re-hydrate.’ She sat back in her chair, her eyes sharply intelligent. ‘I’m sorry about the way you were brought here, but it’s for the protection of everyone in our community, and hopefully you’ll understand after I tell you a bit about us. Then you can have a look around and work out if you’d like to stay with us a while, or if you’d prefer to leave. Whatever you decide, we’d be honoured if you accept our hospitality tonight.’

Charlie shrugged, feeling like she’d fallen into one of Aaron’s stories, ‘Thanks for the invite, but an explanation would be nice first.’

The other woman nodded, ‘of course.’ She leaned forward to pour herself some more water. ‘About 10 years before the power went out my husband William became worried about the state of the world. He also was lucky enough to have a lot of resources.’ She grinned suddenly ‘A whole lot of resources. Anyway he started looking at ways he could prepare for what he thought might be coming as a result of some people’s greed and stupidity.’ She leaned towards Charlie, ‘you’re young enough not to know, but back then people like William were called ‘doomsday preppers’ and mostly they were thought a bit… odd.‘ 

Bass huffed, ‘Turned out the preppers had it right though.’

She paused. ‘Unfortunately, yes. William was a bit different from many others though. He loved the arts more than anything and wanted to create a refuge for all sorts of artists, craftspeople, creative scientists, inventors, musicians, poets, filmmakers, circus performers, fashion designers, and anyone who believed in freedom.... He couldn’t bear thinking that all the politicians would be safe in a crisis but that no one would think about the artists.‘ She looked down at the table, smiling. ‘Then he remembered a poem about a place called Xanadu.’ 

Bass chuckled, ‘In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree etc etc.’ He looked around the big room ‘I’ve got to admit, this is a pretty good dome…’

Charlie was sitting looking mystified, ‘Xanadu?’ 

Bass turned to her, ‘it’s from an old poem, Charlie, I read it at school, about a king who built a kind of underground paradise…’ He looked back at Petra, ‘So he built his own?’ He was intrigued… 

She nodded, ‘We call it New Xanadu, or just home’ she shrugged. ‘Anyway, William had a list of people he had invited to join us, he even gave them directions, but few of them were in the country when the power went out and even fewer made it here…’ Her face fell then she sighed and sat up straight. ‘Of course many of the people who helped build New Xanadu stayed with us, and thankfully we were already well established by the time the power went off.’ She smiled, ‘others have joined us over the years, and some of us travel and trade and find like-minded people along the way. And although for some of us it was difficult to come to terms with, we also found we needed soldiers. We call them our Scouts.’ She took a sip from her glass then put it down with a little clink on the table. ‘We stay hidden though, especially now that these so-called Patriots have arrived.’

Bass nodded, ‘They’re bad news.’

She nodded, ‘we’re watching them, and I’m hoping we’re hidden well enough to keep out of their way, although William doesn’t think we can stay neutral for long.’ She took a deep breath, ‘Anyway, we’re lucky enough to be able to support ourselves, and I’m glad to say we’d already done much of the preparatory work long before the power went out. After that my colleagues and I had to become a little more creative.’ She looked down and her lips tightened. ‘We produce anaesthetics, pain killers, some psychotropic’s for our own needs and for trade, and the garden you found is one of our laboratories – and factories, of a sort.’ She cleared her throat and shrugged. ‘The gardens also function as a line of defence. Sometimes people wander past by accident or come looking for us and find them,’ she paused, her lips twitching a little, ‘I think you can guess the rest.’ 

Charlie felt somehow on familiar ground - having grown up around a genius or two she recognised the signs and at least this particular genius hadn’t destroyed the world. 

Petra went on, ‘some of them we just ignore and they wake up after some nice dreams and usually go home. Others though, the special ones, we bring inside our refuge while they are asleep’ she shrugged and looked at her audience. ’That keeps the way in safe you see…’ 

Bass and Charlie shared a look – they’d already figured that one out.

‘We invite them to see how we live and what we can offer them especially if we think they may have skills or talents they might be prepared to share or trade, then we offer them a choice – become members and allies of our community or leave and take something that makes them forget.’ She shrugged, ‘which is unfortunate but necessary. The outside has become an even more brutal and frightening place than even we feared, especially since the bombs fell on Philadelphia and Georgia and the Patriots arrived in their tall boats.’ She took a deep breath, ‘anyway, I hope that makes things a little clearer? She shuffled a little on her chair and moved her glass around on the table, a little uncomfortable? ‘But the reason you two are here is that our scouts thought you looked especially interesting.’

Bass’ eyebrows shot up, ‘sorry?’ 

Charlie looked from him to Petra, ‘what do you mean?’

She shrugged again, ‘as I said before, we have a lot of artists here - and they’re always hungry for inspiration, quite demanding really.’ She turned to Bass ‘and the report of your skills as a swordsman has our weapons master practically salivating. She can’t wait to meet you.’ 

Bass couldn’t help it - he laughed out loud, he’d never have guessed his little ploy to gain Charlotte’s interest would end up like this. He had to admit he was flattered too; it had been a little while since any one had salivated over his ability with a sword, that kind of sword anyway. 

Petra leaned towards Monroe.‘ She’s very much looking forward to discussing technique with you.’ 

Charlie sat up straight, not sure how she felt about that. She couldn’t actually be jealous, could she?

‘You also seem to us to be reasonably civilised people.’ 

Bass stifled a laugh, turning it into a cough. He hadn’t been called civilized for a while. 

Charlie’s dimple flashed then disappeared again.

‘And Bounty hunting is of course a common occupation these days.’ 

Bass shrugged, ‘true...’ Of course they’d had a look in the wagon, but the only thing that mentioned him in there was the bounty sheet – but that didn’t have a picture, so... 

Petra looked from him to Charlie, her dark eyes amused, ‘At your camp, you shared your provisions and supplies with each other fairly, your animals are well tended and healthy and you appear to have a range of skills that would be of great interest to us.’ She leaned forward over the table and smiled again, her teeth small and white. ‘In short we think you might fit in well in our community, and we’d like you both to stay a while, see what we can offer, meet some of our folk and hopefully decide that you’d like to stay.’ She sat back, an elegant figure against the chair and the backdrop.

Bass wasn’t often speechless but he was pretty close.

Charlie leaned forward and poured out two glasses of orange juice, wishing it was whisky, passed one to Monroe then drained hers in one go, choking back a laugh when he did the same. 

Then she turned to Monroe, ‘I’m in if you are…’ 

He nodded ‘Sounds good to me, Charlotte.’ He was already very curious about this place and really wanted to see more, and the possibility of new allies was always a good thing. They also seemed to think that he and Charlie were a couple. Which was going to make things very interesting…

He leaned over and patted Charlie on the knee, then gave Petra his most charming grin, ‘I’m James – or Jimmy King and this is…’

‘Charlotte Masters’ Charlie broke in. ‘We’ve been travelling together for a while now.‘ She shot him a grin but only he could see the challenge in her eyes. ‘and I’ve almost made up my mind about him.’ 

Petra laughed, ‘I wouldn’t leave him alone in here then if you haven’t made a claim yet… We have a lot of young, healthy women who would be very happy to take him off your hands’ she laughed again, ‘lots of healthy men too if you’re looking to have a change…’ 

Charlie reached for the hand on her knee and took a firm hold of it, smiled sweetly and leaned towards Petra, ‘Oh, you can tell everyone that I’ve definitely laid a claim.’ She heard his low chuckle but couldn’t look at him…not quite sure of what she’d see. Then she lost her train of thought for a moment as he meshed his fingers through hers. They felt strong and warm, his thumb tracing little circles in her palm. 

Petra smiled back at her, although her eyes darted to Bass too, amused, eyes crinkling at the corners. Then she folded her hands together on the table, ‘we had expected that you’d be sharing a room. Is that alright?’

Charlie nodded, not daring to look at Monroe, although she felt his hand tighten on hers. ‘Of course.’

The other woman smiled again, ‘good, oh and we ask you not to try to leave until you’ve made your choice. The ways out of the refuge are hard to find, deliberately so – as I said we take every precaution to maintain our security for the safety of our people.’ 

She clapped her hands together. ‘I’ll ask Sam to show you to your room then, you’ll find everything you need there...’ She paused, ‘I can promise you that the food here is delicious but ordinary, so please don’t worry about that. Oh, and your horses and wagon have been secured in our stable complex and are quite safe and well cared for – if you want to check them, Sam can take you down after you’ve eaten and rested? Your weapons are secured in a locker near your wagon – but you won’t need them here – except in practice sessions of course’ she glanced at Bass ‘inside Xanadu, no one carries weapons except for the guards’

He nodded, ‘I understand, and thanks for letting us know.’ 

She stood up and bowed gracefully ‘It’s my pleasure to welcome you to New Xanadu then. We’ll have a party tonight to welcome you properly and so you can meet some of the others. I’ll see you then.’

Petra left, just as Sam came hurrying back, the two of them exchanging a few words as they passed. 

As they walked back to where they’d been sleeping to collect their gear, Charlie let Bass walk ahead with Sam. She needed to think, because she’d as good as stated that she and Monroe were together. A couple. 

She watched as he talked to the other man with an easy, friendly grace. His face vibrantly alive, his eyes bright and his smile wide as he asked questions and listened to Sam talking about the building around them. The starched General Monroe had gone in the months since the Tower, and she couldn’t deny that she found this man fascinating and increasingly, meltingly attractive. 

………………………………………  
Sam led them, robe swirling and sandaled feet flapping on the stone floor, through an archway into a curving hallway where there were mosaics, sculptures and murals decorating the walls and floor, plants flourished in ceramic pots, vines trailed over cast iron hooks set into the walls, tall oil lamps with stained glass shades were placed at intervals and coloured light streamed down from above through stained glass skylights. 

Bass was impressed. The workmanship and skill in this place was extraordinary. 

Charlie couldn’t remember seeing anything like it – ever. The old hotel where she had found Miles had been kind of ornate, but nothing like this. She stared as they walked, eyes wide… Coloured drops of light from the lamps and the skylights dappled her skin and she waved her hands through them.

‘It’s pretty good isn’t it?’ Sam smiled at her.

‘It’s incredible,’ she breathed, ‘and it’s cooler than outside.’ She was surprised, it was high summer and it should be hot everywhere...

We’re underground, temp stays pretty constant,’ He pointed up ‘the skylights are a few inches thick, it helps to insulate us down here.’

She looked up, the windows looked light, bright, beautiful, not inches thick…

Bass looked at her – there was a kind of innocent joy on her face that made him feel sad. Her life since the blackout had been full of hardship and violence, all of it the responsibility of other people, including him and her own family. He let out a breath. It was time they did something right for her. Together he and Miles could do a better job than they did the last time. For her, for Charlie.

But now they were here, and he kept finding reasons to lightly touch her as they walked – pointing out some detail, or particularly beautiful piece of art, loving the look of pleasure as she looked, the smiles that made their way into his heart. His hands ached to touch more of her, to stroke her hair, the tantalizing little strip of flesh between her jeans and her tank, the smooth muscle of her arm… His cock twitched…

Damn, he had to do something to take his mind off her. He kept his hands at his sides…‘So what do you do around here Sam?’ 

The rounded, intelligent face turned towards him, eyes bright, friendly. ‘I was one of the engineers who worked on this place in the beginning.’ He grinned, toothy and broad. ’But I got to love it so much I didn’t want to go back to the real world even when it was the real world – and there’s always something to do or improve, new people to meet.’ He nodded to both of them, ‘like you...’

He stopped in front of an ornately carved archway and opened the polished wooden door with a flourish, ‘here we are.’ He walked in and they followed him through the door.

They found themselves in a large, high ceilinged room – with more of the light wells and shafts of light from above, lamps set ready although they weren’t needed yet, and mirrors, soft furniture, bright rugs and paintings giving a homelike, casual feel to the place. 

Sam stood on the stone floor just inside the door, ‘Bedroom’s off to the right, living and eating area in the middle’ he pointed to a table with covered baskets and various jugs on it, ‘refreshments’. He made a kind of circus flourish, ‘and bathroom to the left.’ 

The sleeves of his robe fluttered as he leaned towards them, talking behind his hand. ‘Just quietly and no offence meant but you could both really do with a bath…’ 

Charlie laughed, ‘can’t argue with that.’

Bass shrugged, sniffing his armpit, ‘I don’t know, the smell’s kind of growing on me.’

Sam chuckled, ‘your clothes look like they’re growing on you too,’ he tipped his head towards the door, ‘leave them out and we’ll get them cleaned for you, just this once, then you can do your own.’ He waved a hand towards the bedroom end of the room, ‘there’s some stuff over there you can use till they’re dry.’

Bass nodded. ‘Thanks, that’d be great,’

Charlie had gone over to the table and was checking out the food, she found a bread roll, tore it apart and started eating. ’I haven’t had bread in ages, this is so good,’ 

Bass had found something else. ‘Is that a shower?’ He was staring at a tiled area in the bathroom section of the room… 

’Sure is’ Sam said, voice proud. ‘We’ve got hot water piped round the whole place – combination of solar sink and an old Roman under floor water heating technique. Do you know they used it for their baths? Similar thing was featured in one of those Pirate movies, you know the one with the….’ His voice tailed off.

Bass had gone, he was already over at the shower, turning the taps on, watching as a gush of steaming hot water streamed out of the fitting above his head. He turned to Sam, his teeth gleaming white as his smile spread from ear to ear. ‘Sam, if you only knew how long I have been dreaming of a hot shower…’ 

‘I know how you feel,’ His grin almost as wide, ‘every time I come back home it’s the first thing I head for. There’s a bath there too if you want a soak.’ 

Bass looked beyond the shower stall at an in-floor bath, almost a small swimming pool, filled to the brim with steaming water. He sighed, ‘I have died and gone to heaven.’ 

Charlie looked across at them, licking her fingers, ’what are you doing Jimmy?’ 

Bass sucked in a breath, ’under normal circumstances, Charlotte, I would be offer to be a gentleman but this is a shower with hot running water and I am getting under it right fucking now…’ He started peeling off his shirt. 

Sam laughed, ‘I think I’ll leave you both to get settled’ he said ‘so rest and enjoy yourselves. I’ll come back for you in a couple of hours.’ He turned to leave, then looked back at Bass and then across to Charlie ‘please don’t take this in the wrong spirit and I’m really sorry, but until we know you a little better there’ll be a couple of guards outside the door.’ 

Bass looked back, busy wrestling his feet out of his boots. ‘It’s ok Sam. I’d do the same. We’ll be fine…’

Sam looked relieved and nodded, ‘Ok, that’s good, I’ll see you later then.’ 

Charlie was looking at Bass, suspicious. ‘Did you say hot water?’

‘Yeah’ he reached down to deal with his belt buckle and fly, ‘shower to get clean then bath to soak. Fucking heaven on a stick.’ 

She glared, only half joking... ‘You bastard.’

Sam headed for the door a bit faster, laughing loud enough that they could hear him after he went through…

Bass stripped off his pants and stood in his shorts, grinning over his shoulder at her, triumphant. ‘You were more interested in the food and I got here first. Bad luck, Charlotte.’ 

Charlie looked over at him, stunned into staring. He was shirtless, pant-less and had turned his back to remove his shorts. His eagerness for a hot shower was so incredibly cute and funny that she couldn’t move she was suddenly laughing so much. She didn’t think he’d have waited if there was an audience of hundreds…

Then she stopped laughing and took a deep, deep breath as Monroe straightened up, her mouth fell open too and she was pretty sure her heart stopped for a moment. She’d seen him with his shirt off but naked he was something else. He was still turned away from her as he busied himself collecting some of the toiletries laid out on a stone table set against the wall and the muscles on his back tensed and released, those on his arms rippled – his butt flexed as he moved, his legs were long and beautifully muscled and as he moved she caught tantalising glimpses of swaying movement between his legs. He was so intent on what he was doing that Charlie wasn’t sure he even remembered she was there…

She decided that that was going to change right now…

He was already under the shower, the steaming water cascading onto his head and downwards, falling in ripples over his shoulders and down his back. He groaned and let out a huge, shuddering sigh, leaning forwards with both hands against the back wall so that the water flowed covered every part of him.

Charlie took her boots off, then her belt – careful to keep its rings quiet, although she doubted he’d hear them anyway. Then she stripped off her shirt, tank and bra, leaving them where they fell and while walking towards him undid her pants, sliding out of them one leg at a time, kicking free of them as soon as she could. As she got closer she could see the water trickling down over his skin, the sunlight from above making rainbows through the water, catching in the light dusting of hair low on his back, runnels of water going between his butt cheeks and down the insides of his long legs… 

She could see every toned muscle defined, outlined, wet… He honestly made other men she had been with look… unfinished…

She hesitated for a moment, his body rising tall in front of her, his flesh gold, shining… steam rising from his shoulders, his hair darker, the curls more defined… Then she moved up behind him and pressed all of herself against his back, the tight globes of his buttocks firm, a little rough and springy against her belly, his back smooth against the cushions of her breasts and slippery with water. She slid her hands up each of his arms, fingers following the firm contours, hands wrapping themselves around his forearms, the water cascading over both of them now, so warm… silky. Turning her head she leaned against him – her heart beating faster and lightening strikes of sensation stroking through her at the feel of him so alive, so wet and hot beneath her... 

His whole body went still underneath her, ‘Charlie…what are you doing?’ 

She kissed the base of his neck and nuzzled her cheek over the smooth wet skin of his shoulder, loving the feel of him. ‘I told Petra that I’d laid my claim’, she said softly, ’I don’t want her to think I’m a liar.’ She ran her hands down his arms and circled his chest, brushing her fingers over his nipples, 

He gasped and brought his hands down to hers, wrapping them in his. 

’I’ll wash you if you do me’ she said against his skin.

He laughed and she could feel it ripple through him ‘and I didn’t think this day could get any better…’ his voice was soft.

He let go of her hands and turned around, his skin sliding over hers like a delicious wave. 

Her heart was pounding so hard that tiny shudders were running through her, shivers of need, of amazement that she was doing this. He was so much taller than her that her eyes were level with the little buds of his nipples, his wide, wide shoulders rising above her like mountains in the steam, his muscle ridged abdomen hard against her breasts and his cock hard against her belly.

Then he moved away just a little, his eyes and face so very intensely on hers that she felt she was drowning in the water and in him.

’Charlotte’ he ran his hands along her shoulders and up the sides of her face, lifting her hair away from her so that he could see all of her. ‘I’ve dreamed about doing this so many times…’ his gaze moved over her face then down to her breasts, his eyes catching the water, their blue expanding out until everything was blue…

Her nipples seemed to feel his eyes on them, sensation making them tighten into tingling peaks. Then his eyes came back to hers for a searing moment and he licked his lips, his breath ragged, harsh. 

She could feel his heartbeat like a drum beating through his body into hers. ‘So have I…’ 

He closed his eyes and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her temple then one on her lips. ‘So beautiful.’ His hands moved down over her shoulders, fingers caressing her shoulders, thumbs tracing the edges of her breasts…

Charlie felt unexpected tears well in her eyes to join the drops already there from the water streaming over them both, and she looked up at his face, his eyes were so blue… ’I don’t know what to call you right now,’ her voice breaking. ‘I don’t think of you as Monroe any more, and Jimmy isn’t you either.’ 

His lips curved gently and he leaned down, his lips close to her ear, ‘so why don’t you call me Bass…’ His thumbs grazed her nipples, sending a shock right down to her toes… 

She leaned closer, her hands exploring, her body eager against his and she smiled as she felt him hard and so ready. ‘Ok, Bass…’

………………………………………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hi, and thanks so much for reading!! The next chapter will be up soon – this one needed a lot of work lol!! But, they’re still in the shower for the beginning of the next scene… I’d love to know what you think, if you have a moment… cheers, Magpie


	4. Water, water everywhere...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hi, and thanks so much for joining me for this next chapter - it's set mostly in the shower (just for you Lemon lol!) but a lot of stuff happens in there!! Including quite a bit of smut. I can actually write stories without smut, but sometimes it's just more fun with it.. anyway, I hope you enjoy!! cheers, Magpie

Sebastian Monroe, Bass… was kissing her, his arms holding her hard against him, against a hot, hard body with the water flooding around them, warm, sweet and delicious and she was on fire, it felt so fucking good.... 

Then he stopped, breathing hard, letting go of her. His arms falling to his sides, hands clenched. ‘Shit…’

Charlie staggered back, panting, confused. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

He caught her hands in his, taking them both to his lips and kissing her fingers, his big body blocking most of the water... ’Charlie, believe me there is nothing I want more than to keep on doing this, but are you sure it’s what you want? You don’t have to prove anything, to Petra or to me.’ He bent to look in her eyes. ‘We can just find out what they’re going to do against the Patriots and if we can make some kind of deal and if we can’t, then tell them thank but no thanks, get back on the road to your family and forget all about this place.’ 

Her fingers tightened into fists inside his hands, her eyes storm blue and the water dripping from her eyelashes definitely not tears. ’You’re a dick.’

He stared, under the runnels of water and even with her hair stringy and wet with streaks of clean skin through the dirt she was gorgeous and the look on her face was reminding him of how she’d stood up to him back on the road outside New Vegas, although she hadn’t been bare-ass naked then. He kept his eyes on hers, trying to calm his cock and wishing his conscience to hell. But this wasn’t just any girl, this was Charlie Matheson and he couldn’t do it. ‘Charlie, I…’

She pulled her hands away, and stepped back away from him, furious. ‘Do you really think I’d have gotten naked and plastered myself all over you if I didn’t want to, you moron?’

His mouth fell open, and then he couldn’t help it – he laughed, she sounded so like Miles it was ridiculous…

She went very still, eyes narrowed, ‘what’s so funny?’

Shit. He stopped laughing, turning it into a cough. ‘It’s just… that sounded like something Miles would say’

Her eyes went wide, fury morphing to astonishment, ‘what…that he wouldn’t have gotten naked and plastered himself all over you if he didn’t want to?’

He choked, shaking his head, water flying everywhere. He reached back to the taps and turned the flow down… ‘Fuck no. Not that. Shit… The moron bit…’

She smirked, an eyebrow quirking then stopped, considering, wiping a drip away from her eyes with the back of her hand, ‘I didn’t expect you to be so noble about having sex with me. The stories about you all say you like sex, a lot.’

He ran a hand through his hair, slightly taken aback. He knew he had a reputation but… ‘I do, I love it. A lot. But Charlie, this is diff… I mean, you’re…’ he stopped, taking a breath. Damn it… ‘Charlie, you are a very beautiful woman, I’d have to be dead not to want to have sex with you,’ and wasn’t that blaringly fucking obvious, his dick was still so hard it hurt and was down there frantically waving its little hand for attention. ‘But I don’t want you to do it just because you thought you had to lay a claim on me, that’s just wrong...’ He looked into her eyes, ‘I’ve done a lot of bad things, Charlie, but I won’t take advantage of you like that.’

She stared back at him for a long moment, water dripping unnoticed down her face… Then the wicked gleam appeared in her eyes again. ‘I thought I was the one taking advantage of you?’ She looked him up and down, eyes resting on the very obvious, ‘and at least one part of you doesn’t seem to mind,’ She stepped closer again, her eyes teasing, hand reaching out, ‘it seems like a shame to waste it.’

He sucked in a breath, watching as her fingers curled round him, gentle but strong, stroking up and down until his balls tightened up, hips pushing his cock into her hand, wanting more…

She got even closer, her other hand sliding over his chest, water splashing in little rainbow droplets and her thumb brushing over one of his nipples, the touch leaving little circles of fire on his skin. Her own nipples were pebbled, pink, tempting, breasts rising and falling with her breath and her eyes holding onto his, daring him. ‘So are you sure that this is what I want now Monroe? Or do I have to do something else to convince you.’ She pressed against him, trapping her hand and his cock between them, squeezing him between their bodies, her hand still moving on him, the extra pressure almost bringing him undone...

He licked his lips, eyes blazing down into hers, breath coming fast and his body tense with the effort not to come in her hand, because damn he wasn’t that easy, was he? Then he shrugged, a slow smile curving his lips, maybe he was…

She let go, giving his cock a parting squeeze, leaving him gasping at the brink… Then she grabbed his shoulders, jumped up and swung her legs around his waist, hanging from her arms around his neck, her weight pushing him back against the wall and her lips close to his ear, ‘do you really think I’m beautiful?’

He was too busy keeping himself upright and getting his hands down under her ass cheeks to keep her up there to answer, but once he’d done that he found himself looking straight into her eyes, so close that he could see the little starbursts of blue in them. But just behind the brash Matheson confidence he thought he saw something a little sad in there, something uncertain…

He kept it light, ‘do you really need me to tell you again?’

She swept his lips with hers, enjoying the feel of the soft scruff and moustache against her skin, ‘maybe… but only if you want to.’ She kissed him again, tightening her grip, the water tumbling down over the both of them, like a hot, steaming waterfall. She lifted her face into it, feeling it washing the dirt of weeks off her skin, felt her body sliding, slipping down over hot muscled flesh, hair roughened skin…

Bass leaned back against the wall, her slim, curvy and slippery body writhing in his arms, trying to keep them upright and tightening his grip on her ass, his fingers digging into the twin globes of springy flesh and the valley between them. Her strong legs clamped tighter around him, feet braced against the back of his knees as the water trickled down on their heads, but it was only a matter of time. He gasped out a laughing breath... ‘Ok…you’re beautiful, Charlie, but you’re fucking heavy too and we’re going to be on the floor soon, just saying....’

She looked down at him, eyes dancing, ‘just checking your stamina, Monroe…’ feeling his thudding heartbeat against her ribs, fast and strong, his muscles taut as bowstrings, hard as metal under soft skin, could feel his cock waiting, the thickness of it just below the slick folds between her legs, hot, inevitable, almost there, almost inside, and she dipped down taking him a little way in, her breath catching at the size of him, then lifting again, her thighs taking the strain, teasing him, pushing it just because she could. 

His eyes blazed into hers, all male, demanding, his lips curving in a grin that was a promise of a sweet hard revenge...

She blazed right back at him, her arms hooked around his neck, finally letting her body slip down over his, her slippery folds a hot tight liquid sheath that parted for him until he was all the way inside her, his thighs under the cheeks of her ass, her feet dangling and her breath caught in a gasp as the water splashed around her into sparkles in the light and she licked coloured droplets and the taste of his mouth from her lips… 

Bass slid inside, all the way, balls deep, the soft lips of her pussy spread around the base of his cock and the tip finding her centre, and he felt the blood that had somehow remained in his brain rush south to join the rest already inside Charlie, his cock surging thicker, harder, deeper…

She gasped, her breath leaving her all at once and she pulled in another in a gasping scream as he lifted and swung her round so that she was hard against the wall, her legs gripping tight around his waist and over his ass… 

He pulled back and thrust in deep again. She was so, so tight and as wet as the water flowing around them, her face glowing with a fierce, almost triumphant pleasure that he knew was echoed on his own, the part of him that could still think knowing that this was a new part of the map and there was no going back for either of them. He’d lied though, she wasn’t heavy, holding her was easy as breathing – he moved his hands back down and along her legs, gripping her thighs and pushing himself as far into her as he could go, her body light in his arms, her breasts bouncing with each of his thrusts, her taut belly rising to meet him… 

She pulled him closer, desperate to feel as much of him as she could, running her hands over the hard muscles in his shoulders and back up over the strong, tight neck, through the soft scruff and hard, beautiful planes of his face to the curls at the base of his skull, getting to know the feel and shape of him while he pulsed and moved inside her – filling the parts of her up again and again that she hadn’t realised had been so empty… 

His hands slid back up over the smooth skin of her ass, up over the curves of her hips and the side of her strong, lithe back then back down, and then for a long, long moment he held still inside her as they both came apart, his knees braced to keep him on his feet and holding her, caught in her eyes again, the pain, grief and horror of the past driven away for now, and her unquenchable spirit and passion shining like clear blue windows straight to her Matheson soul…

And when he could breath again, he swore to himself that when they left here he wouldn’t forget that, he wouldn’t forget the way she looked, the way she felt right then… 

Charlie gazed up at the coloured skylight high above them, the rainbow colours drowning her in light and warmth. Her body loose, satisfied, held up by the wall and him. His cock was still inside her, the sensation of him softening, slowly slipping out of her leaving a kind of cold sadness, emptiness behind it. Making love to him had meant much more than she’d thought it would, and she didn’t want to forget it…

Her head dropped onto his shoulder, chest still heaving as she got her breath back, legs draped around his waist and the fingers of one hand playing with the hairs in his scruff. She stroked her other hand down his back, sending trickling streams of water down his back, then sucked in a huge breath and let it out, looking somewhere at his navel. ‘Petra said we’d have to forget if we leave, so we’d forget this ever happened, wouldn’t we?’

He leaned back and peered down so he could see her face, letting her slip down onto her feet, leaving his cock behind, empty of her… the beams of filtered sunlight from above lighting her hair and making her eyes glow a deep, pale blue, ‘That’s what she said.’ 

Charlie was looking at him with a sadness that tore at his heart, because he didn’t know what it was for or how to fix it... 

Then she stood up straight, the sadness turning into a kind of wild abandon, ‘So if we’re going to forget anyway, why can’t we just be whoever we want for a while? No Patriots, no war, no Willoughby, no anything… Just Jimmy King and Charlie Masters.’

‘Charlie…‘ he bent and kissed her, needing her to know that he was there for her. ‘Of course we can, if that’s what you want….’ Then everything else disappeared except the feel of her in his arms, the water splashing down on them, her body slippery, lithe and so fucking alive - and the thought ran through his mind, crazy because they were who they were and there was no changing that... that he didn’t ever want to let her go.

He drew his lips back from hers after what had felt like a revelation and an eternity, her body sliding against his in a long slither of shared sensations. He sighed and smiled down at her, eyes a clear shining crystal blue. ‘If someone had said to me a few weeks ago that I’d be having amazing shower sex with a gorgeous blonde that happened to be you, I’d have said they had had way too much of that rotgut they call whiskey in New Vegas…’

She gave him a shadow of the smirk from the pool, ’and I’d have agreed with them…’ 

He kissed her again ‘well you didn’t know me then, Charlotte.’ He looked up at the light – there was a different quality to it… time passing. ‘We should really finish getting clean and try out the bath.’ his grin became wicked and he reached for the soap ‘We don’t want to use up all the hot water…’ 

Charlie looked slightly alarmed ‘it could run out??’

…………………………..

After Monroe won the battle for the soap, only because he could hold it higher than she could reach, he proceeded to wash her all over.   
Charlie couldn’t remember ever feeling so incredibly aware of her body – or so incredibly turned on - as Monroe (no… Bass) washed her hair – gently working the suds and oils through the long strands, then soaping her all over from her head to her toes. He kept telling her she was beautiful too and as he worked his way over her, his hands gentle but firm, face and eyes dreamy but so intensely focused on each part of her… she almost found herself believing him. 

He moved around and behind her while he soaped her breasts and belly and she could feel the hair of his beard, soft and rough at the same time when he bent his head to rub his cheek on hers. Then she gasped and caught her lower lip between her teeth, back arching, her hands moving up to enclose his head and run her fingers through his hair as his hands slid between her legs – one from the front, one from the back…strong fingers rubbing and slipping through soapy water and their own juices… 

She could feel his heart thudding a counter rhythm to hers as he stood close, his fingers working through the curls over her pussy, sliding over her clit and her ass, slipping in and our of her and the world dissolved into his hands moving on her and his body surrounding hers. Then after she’d come again, when she was leaning boneless against him he nuzzled his lips against her ear and down her slim neck to the curves of her shoulder, his hands sliding out to spread out over the curve of her hips, pressing her tight against him. 

He took a deep breath and sighed. ’Charlotte… there is nothing that I want to do more than to stay right here and keep doing this,’ he ran his hands over her again and pressed her close - then lightly slapped her butt, chuckling, ‘but the bath is getting cold.’ He stroked down her back then reached out to turn the water on full again making her gasp as a burst of water covered her, rinsing her off in a shower of soapy spray. 

She turned to look up at him, dripping, slanting eyes promising payback. ‘I am seriously going to get you for that next time…’ She reached up and patted his cheek with a soapy hand. ‘But now I understand why you tried to get to the shower first.’

He jerked, ’what?’

Her smirk was cheek to cheek. ‘But next time don’t start without me, ok?’

‘I don’t know ‘ he chuckled ‘that felt pretty good from where I was standing…’ He was brushing the suds from her with one hand and soaping and rinsing bits of himself down with the other, loving the way her skin was flushed and her eyes lazy, engraving each image and the feel of her in his memory as hard as he could so it would stay there forever, resistant to fucking anything Xanadu could come up with.

While he was doing that, Charlie was running her hands over the fine muscles of his chest and the six, no eight? pack that defined his abdomen, going gently over the burn scars on his arm and the cuts and bruises still healing after New Vegas, working over his equally toned back and butt. Then she moved her hands round the front of him. 

He sucked in a breath, ‘Charlotte?’

’A little busy here Bass…’ she looked around and up at him from soaping his cock, eyes dancing and lips curved in a grin that held all sorts of promises.

He had to work to get the words out, ‘Charlie, I think you know how much I’m enjoying that, but... Oh… that’s…’ He gasped again and put his hand out to lean on the wall as everything went to fireworks and he forgot whatever it was he’d been about to say. 

She stood up and laughed at him, ’payback’s a bitch, Monroe.’ 

……………………………

Charlie had a very dim memory of bath times with Danny when they were both very young and baths in Sylvania Estates had been rare because they took so much effort that no one bothered more than once a week, mostly making do with quick, usually cold washes of the essential bits… This bath was more like a hot pool and now, she was floating in a liquid haze of amazingly clean contentment leaning next to Bass, his arm around her waist, their legs twining together in the warm water. She was totally relaxed and comfortable for the first time in she couldn’t remember how long, and it was just...fucking…perfect.

‘Charlie? I’m sorry... but I need to ask you something.’ His voice was quiet, careful…

‘Hmm?’ She managed to turn so she could see his face.

He brought a hand round, a long finger stroking the line of her jaw. ‘Why are you on your own so far away from Miles and your mom?’ He cleared his throat, ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you can’t take care of yourself but this is really bad country for anyone travelling alone, and if it was because you were looking for me, I…’ he swallowed and his hand tightened in a brief spasm. ‘You could have died – or something worse - trying to kill me, Charlie.’ 

She sighed, the sadness and uncertainty back in her eyes again. 

He cursed himself for that but he needed to know. 

She turned and curled against him, her legs floating over his, creating little eddies in the water. ‘After the Tower we walked for ages, weeks, hundreds of miles because Mom was just…gone. She didn’t talk, didn’t eat, we had to help her do everything… and my Grandpa in Texas was the only person Miles thought could maybe help her.’ 

Bass watched as the emotions passed across her face, he could only guess how bad that trip had been for her, and Miles...

Her eyes were far away, her hand absently playing with the hairs on his chest. ‘I guess we were all in shock for a while after the bombs. We just kept going, kept walking and then when we got to Grandpa’s, even though he spent all the time with mom he could, did as much as he could, she really lost it. She tried to kill herself.’ 

He went still, ‘Shit. I’m so sorry.’ At least he was sorry that Charlie had had to deal with it. He wasn’t sorry for Rachel. The world and millions of people would have been a lot better off if Rachel Matheson had chosen another career option. Charlie’s mom had earned her guilt. 

Charlie sighed again, ’I was pretty useless there. They didn’t even know I was there half the time, and I know it’s selfish and wrong but I just had to get away.’ She shrugged, looking up at him, ‘I think Miles knew what was happening, and that I had to go,’ her lips curved in a little smile. ‘He told me he couldn’t stop me going but to keep my stupid to a minimum.’

Bass chuckled, ‘that sounds like Miles…’

The smile widened. ‘Yeah… So I travelled around – hunting, trading, drinking and sometimes finding someone to be with for a while. At first it was ok but in the end I was just kind of drifting…’ The smile faded and she looked away, her eyes lost, remembering. ‘Then I met a guy in a bar. Ex-militia. He told me he’d seen you and it was like I woke up… And then when I found you in New Vegas you made me feel something… like I was alive – even if it was just to kill you.’ Her eyes met his again. ‘I’m kind of glad that I didn’t now by the way.’ 

He laughed, the movement sending tiny water fountains into the air between them. ‘So am I…’ 

She wiped a couple of drops that had splashed onto her nose, ‘And then in Pottsboro you came and you found me when I’d just about given up – again.’ 

Bass felt a flashback to the cold fury he’d felt when he’d realised what was happening in that bar, and the crushing fear that he was too late to save her. He’d realised that she mattered to him then too, and not just because she could lead him to Miles. She’d done it all on her own. 

She reached up to retrieve a straying curl of her hair that had floated over his shoulder. ‘You looked after me when I couldn’t take care of myself, and you made me feel as though someone cared about me, even if it was the man I used to hate more than anything.’ Her eyes met his. Her lips almost close enough for him to reach... 

He bent and closed the gap, her mouth sweet and soft, his arms around her under the water and her body fitting next to his like it was meant to be there. He felt something loosen up a little inside him that had been tight for longer than he could remember, feeling more at ease with Charlie Matheson at that moment than he thought he had been since that day in the camp when Shelley and their baby died and everything went to hell. 

She broke the kiss and laughed softly, ‘of course it doesn’t hurt that you’ve got great abs and can use a sword or two…’ Then she frowned up at him. ‘And just so you know… if you so much as smile too much at that salivating Weapons Master I can’t guarantee that I’ll be nice. I’ve claimed you, remember?’ 

Somehow Bass had the feeling that she wasn’t actually joking about that…

……………………………………….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: thanks for reading, and they do actually get dressed in the next chapter lol! cheers, Magpie


	5. Hey Batman...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: thanks so much for reading, and for your kind comments on the story so far!!

Out of the bath and dry in the light robes that they had found hanging on the wall near the shower, Bass and Charlie lounged back on the huge, comfortable leather couch in the living area between the bedroom and bathroom and started working through the jugs of cold drink, bread, soft cheese, salad bits and fruit that waited on the heavy, carved wooden table… 

Bass picked a jug up, smelled it and smiled, ‘Beer.’ He poured some into a couple of the heavy, handmade glasses, handing her one, ‘not as good as whiskey but it’ll do.’ 

She took it and sipped, the beer was thick and rich with a heavy, bitter flavour that teased her tongue. ‘It’s nice.’ She leaned back against his shoulder, one leg hooked over his and hanging between his knees, sipping her beer and looking around the room. Beams of light shone down from the skylights and little dust motes floated in a light breeze from ceramic ventilation holes shaped like gargoyles and grinning faces. The walls and vaulted ceiling were covered with paintings of landscapes, animals, people and what looked like scenes from some of Aaron’s picture books that she couldn’t quite work out... She pointed up at a picture of a man in a tight blue suit, and a cloak, a large S on his chest, looking like he was flying – or falling maybe - over the tall buildings of a pre-blackout city. ‘Who’s that?’

He laughed, ‘That’s Superman, flying over Metropolis.’

‘Super man?’ She smirked, ‘cute outfit…’ She chose another, ‘and that one?’

‘Buffy the vampire slayer,’ he peered up, ‘I think. My sisters liked her, although I don’t remember her tits being that big or that she wore so much leather...’

‘I like her…’ Charlie made quick stabbing motions with her hand towards his chest, ‘she looks badass.’

He chuckled, pretending to retreat from the hand. ‘Hey…. yeah… she was totally badass.’

She looked around, pointing out a painting that looked like a giant lizard smashing through a huge bridge, cars and buses falling everywhere... ‘What about that one?’

He leaned down, nibbled her throat then pulled back, ‘Godzilla, it was a kind of warning story about the mutating effects of nuclear radiation turning little lizards into giant lizards who destroy cities…’

She shivered, partly from the sizzle of his lips on her neck and partly from the thought of what had happened to Philly and Atlanta. ‘When we were on the road after the Tower, Aaron said some scary stuff about nuclear fallout and that there could be mutations in plants and animals after the bombs.’ She turned so she could see him, ‘although giant lizards are a little bit hard to believe…’

‘Yeah, maybe, who knows…’ He’d gone quiet, staring off into the distance. The thought of his city burned to ash and poisonous, all the life gone out of it was taking the colour from the room, the air from his lungs...

Charlie saw it in his face and frowned, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you,’

He stared down at her, ‘is it that obvious?’

She nodded, ‘I thought you were putting on a show back in that pool back in New Vegas, but I’ve seen you looking at that paper you keep in your pocket, the one about the Philadelphia bombs?’ She reached for the jug and filled his glass up again, her eyes haunted now too, ‘I know you think about it a lot…’ 

He took a long drink. ‘I can’t stop thinking about it. I see it, dream about it every time I shut my eyes…’ Then he sighed, ‘talk about spoiling the mood.’ He looked up at the ceiling, pointed up, ‘now there’s a better one. That’s Batman, and Catwoman.’ An eyebrow lifted, and he grinned, ‘although I don’t remember them doing that in the film... I’m really beginning to like whoever painted this room.’ 

Charlie smirked, ‘they look pretty friendly.’

He pulled her closer, eyes turning a wicked blazing blue, his lips close to her ear. ‘They were. Very, very friendly.’

The kiss was gentle at first, sweet, and then the heat rose between them, limbs tangled, sliding together on the couch, bodies bare under the robes, skin clean and soft, smelling sweet, the scent of arousal sharp and spicy, rising into the air…

Charlie gasped against his lips, one arm hooked tight around his neck, the other braced on his shoulder as his fingers found their way through the soft curls between her legs to her wet, heated folds and liquid core, a finger sliding inside, in and out, another circling her clit, the little bud singing a song that rose higher and higher, louder and louder until it burst from her throat in a scream that he swallowed with a deep, satisfied laugh, holding her as she fell back, boneless, her limbs heavy, eyes searching for his, her voice hoarse. ‘I like Batman.’

He chuckled, ‘me too.’ 

She leaned back against him, catching her breath, breathing him in. His body was warm and relaxed surrounding hers, his arm curved around her and his hand stroking her thigh. Then she looked over at the bed. The wooden posts were carved with human figures, richly coloured woven rugs and pillows were scattered around the stone and mosaic floor, and there was a wooden rack with an assortment of clothes hanging on it that served as a kind of divider for the room when looking from the door. It was beautiful, rich, all of it, unlike anything she’d seen before. 

’I wish… I mean I know we have to go find my family but I wish...’ She reached for his hand, rubbing her thumb over his work and fight roughened fingers, the palm, calloused from gripping a sword. 

He stroked her hair, his hand gentle. ’I know, Charlie.’

She leaned against his hand for a moment then sat up straight, taking a deep breath. ‘Hey, Sam’s going to be back soon, and we’d better find something to wear because my spares are in the wagon and I’m not putting this stuff back on again till it’s clean, not if I don’t have to.’ She studied the rack of clothing then turned, looked him up and down, then her eyes went back to the rack, speculative. ‘Bass?’ 

He watched her, a little suspicious of the grin starting at the corners of her full and well-kissed lips. ‘Yes, Charlotte?’ 

‘I’ve got an idea.’ She wriggled free and got up.  
…………………………………..

Petra and William sat around a low, beautifully carved table in their private quarters.

Sam joined them, his chair creaking a little as he sat down. ’They seem like good people, I like them’. 

William was in his wheelchair, arthritis was rapidly crippling his body although his mind was still as acute and curious as ever, ‘I must admit that I’m curious…’ 

Petra smiled at him and leaned over to gently pat his twisted hand, ‘I think you’ll enjoy meeting these two, Bill.’ She sat back, ‘Thea’s certain she knows who they are. She’s seen him before, back before the bombs and she heard enough to guess the rest. We have General Sebastian Monroe and Charlotte Matheson, the daughter of Ben and Rachael Matheson and the niece of General Miles Matheson as our guests.’ She glanced at William, ‘Bill do you remember reading the papers on the Matheson’s work with Nanotech?’ 

‘I do indeed…’ he smiled, his voice low and papery. ‘Revolutionary.’ 

Her brows drew together in a delicate frown, ‘and you remember just before the bombs dropped on Philadelphia and Atlanta the reports of Monroe Republic helicopters and vehicles working, and weapons being used that needed electricity to operate?’

Bill nodded, ‘before the surge… yes, it was localised somehow, but they had power.’

She sat up straighter, ‘I did wonder if there was a connection between the blackout and the work that the Mathesons were doing with nanotech control of electrical energy, and if maybe something had gone terribly wrong with their work or whether someone had misused it deliberately. Rachael Matheson was brilliant, her husband too, I saw that when we worked with the DoD, but neither of them seemed to me to be the kind to deliberately send the world back to the dark ages, especially not when they had a young family?’

He nodded again, ‘I’m sure you’re right, and now we find the ex-leader of the Monroe Republic travelling with the daughter of the inventors of that technology. It's a little too much of a coincidence even with the connection between Sebastian Monroe and Miles Matheson. Although there was no mention of Charlotte in the reports from Philadelphia, just her mother...’

Petra shook her head, bemused. ‘That young woman has an extraordinary heritage. But I wonder why these so called Patriots are so interested in finding Rachel Matheson…’ She shrugged, ‘unless they think she knows how to turn the power back on?’

‘The Patriots are saying that Monroe dropped the bombs on Philadelphia and Georgia?’ Sam added, ‘maybe they think he knows something about the power too?’ 

Petra frowned. ‘I don’t think he dropped the bombs, although I’m sure he must know something about the power. But he was the President of the Monroe Republic. Why would he fire an ICBM at his own city – destroying his own centre of power, his own army? And since then he’s been what – prize fighting in New Vegas? It doesn’t make a lot of sense, if he did it he hasn't gained anything, in fact he's lost everything.’ 

William sat forward a little in his chair; a frown creasing his lined and craggy but still striking features… ‘I don’t like these Patriots, I mean, what were they doing hiding out in Cuba for fifteen years? Then turning up out of the blue after the bombs dropped when they had ships and an army and could have come here anytime?’

Petra and Sam both nodded agreement.

William chuckled then coughed. ’The story would be worth a Pulitzer – if there were still Pulitzers.’ 

Sam sat back and rearranged his robes. ‘There are a few ex-Journalists here who would jump very high for the chance at an interview with Sebastian Monroe, ‘The real story of the blackout – and the rise and fall of the Monroe Republic.’ It’s the story of a lifetime.’

Petra sighed, ‘But what, and how, can we tell them? Some of our newer people are refugees from the days of the Militia and from the bombs. Telling them that the supposed perpetrator of both as well as the niece of the Butcher of Baltimore are here among them is not going to go down well…even if we did have the full story.’ She straightened up, ‘besides, I like them too, lots of good people found themselves in very bad situations during the years after the power went out, and have worked things out over time. Alice thinks they are wonderful, and Sophie is desperate to make a film of them, and if we can gain their trust they might talk to us freely anyway.’ 

Bill sighed, ‘I have the feeling that they won’t be staying with us long, given the circumstances – but there still might be something we can do to help them.’ 

Petra nodded, ‘we’ll see what we can do, what they’ll let us do, but now it’s time to go,’ She gathered her skirts and stood, moving behind Williams chair to push. 

Sam jumped up ‘here, let me drive…’ 

William smiled up at him, ‘you are a very good friend Sam.’ He sat back in his chair and sighed, ‘I think for the time being our guests are simply talented and welcome travellers. Thea is discreet and I’ve asked her not to say anything about them to anyone else at this stage. Oh…’ He smiled tenderly at Petra as she came round to his side, ‘that dress is wonderful on you, my love. You’re even more beautiful today than you were yesterday.’ 

She bent towards him and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, ‘why, thank you, Bill.’

‘And Sam?’ He spoke over his shoulder as Sam pushed him out of the door with Petra close behind ‘I know that there is a craze at the moment for tie-dyeing but I must say I prefer you in something a little less…wildly colourful?’ 

Sam laughed, ‘I don’t know, it lets the breeze in and Jen made it herself…’  
………………………………………

They had found a full-length mirror near the bed and their reflections gazed back at them. ‘Are you sure about this Charlie?’ Bass grinned. ’I know I said I liked Batman, but maybe this is a bit over the top?’  
She laughed up at him and reached across to squeeze the leather clad butt cheek closest to her. ‘They wouldn’t have left all this stuff if they didn’t want people to wear it, and I think you look amazing.‘ She looked him over approvingly. ‘I’ll have to fight weapon woman off with a stick.’ 

Bass looked at himself, Charlie had found some soft black leather pants with lacing up the sides of the legs that – amazingly – fit him well and a pullover in a light woven fabric – also black - that somehow clung and outlined every muscle. The pants had a chunky leather belt that he wished he could take away with him – the leather was beautifully worked and had a silver buckle kind of in the shape of a bat, if you squinted. He laughed. She’d even found him a long black duster.

There had been boots in various sizes and colours laid out as well as a selection of underwear. Someone had thought of everything, although it was an eclectic selection – a mix and match of hand-spun, hand knitted ethnic, leather and designer tops, pants and dresses. There was even a ball dress or two and a collection of what looked like costumes from mediaeval, period and sci-fi flics. It was as if someone had raided the wardrobes of a movie studio, although many of the items looked new, like the belt - and were beautifully designed and made…

He turned to Charlie ‘Ok… but I think it’ll be me fighting people off with sticks.’ he swung her around. ’You look amazing.’ 

Her hair hung in long shining golden waves over her shoulders and down her back in the fading sunlight with coloured highlights shining from the lamps they had just lit. She’d found a black leather halter neck top that hugged her breasts and left her belly bare except for a fringe of leather, feathers and beads that swung as she moved and a skirt in a rich blue that matched her eyes that hugged her hips then opened out to swing around her calves. Black and silver sandals wrapped her feet and ankles and she had a beautiful woven wrap in blues and purples draped over her shoulders. She’d kept her own chain belt so she moved with a familiar slight jingle…

Charlie looked in the mirror, the outfit was a long way from Drexel’s black dress, and she’d chosen a skirt to try to exorcise that and because she felt like she wanted to try being a girl, not a warrior or a kind of scout, a woman going to a party. It felt funny having her legs bare though. ‘I feel like someone else, not me.’

Bass moved in behind her, running his hands around her waist over her smooth skin. ‘That’s the best thing about dressing up. You can be someone else for a while. I feel like a kid again, taking a beautiful girl out on a date,’ He found her belly button with a finger and gently played with it, ‘and I love this top.’

She laughed and leaned her head back against his shoulder, turning towards him for another kiss…

There was a knock at the door and a voice came faintly through ‘Hi folks… It’s Sam. Are you decent?’ 

Bass chuckled, ‘are we decent?’ He let go of her, his hands caressing the skin of her shoulders, her arms… 

Charlie turned to the door, ‘Come on in Sam…’ Then she smiled up at him – a promise for later in her laughing eyes.

The door opened and Sam walked in with a flourish, resplendent in a tie dyed purple and green jacket over a lavender tee shirt and loose pants in a dark green. His shoes were purple with green lacing, and his hair and beard were striped to match.

Bass took a breath and suddenly felt a bit underdressed.

‘Wow….’ Charlie’s jaw had dropped.

‘You look beautiful, Charlotte,’ Sam grinned, bowing, he turned to Bass, ‘and you too Jimmy. You both look much more relaxed, and a whole heap cleaner. I bet you loved the bath…’ he smiled broadly and turned away, missing the searing look of memory and anticipation that scorched the air between Bass and Charlie. ‘Just leave your dirty things outside the door and you’ll get them back in the morning…guests privilege.’

They followed him out after doing as he suggested and dumping their clothing in a smelly pile outside the door…

Bass nodded at the guards – who stayed silent, even though the male guard was very obviously staring at Charlie and the female guard had positioned herself so that Bass was very much in her field of vision, an open invitation in her dark eyes and her generous lips curved in a welcoming smile. He smiled back, almost on reflex although it wasn’t a hardship, she was tall, muscular and stunning in close fitting green and brown leathers, sword at her hip and guns in a twin shoulder harness. She winked.

Charlie very pointedly took Bass’ arm and gave the other woman what Bass was starting to think of as her ‘pool’ smile – the lips were curving but you just knew there were sharp teeth behind there.

He had to keep from chuckling as she swung him round to follow Sam, not really surprised at how much he was enjoying her being possessive, he’d had an urge to wipe the floor with the guy who’d been staring at her too...

Sam led them further along the wonderfully decorated corridor, the guards falling in behind them, and they walked past more paintings, sculptures, intricate candles and lamps, lush and flowering plants weaving along the walls. It all looked well cared for but lived in too. There was a little dust in places, and a few spider webs, and someone had left a mop and bucket against the wall, which was kind of reassuring really…

Charlie felt as though she was in a kind of dream. It was as though somehow here the blackout hadn’t been a problem. That life had just gone on. 

Bass swung his arm around her, the leather of his jacket smooth on the skin around her waist, and pressed her close, adjusting his stride to suit hers. He grinned down at her and dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘This should be interesting.’

‘Yeah…’ She grinned back. 

Around the next bend the corridor split into two, the paths diverging into a huge circle defining a mezzanine level looking down over a stone balustrade into a vast open domed and brightly decorated space crowded with what looked like hundreds of moving, laughing, singing and dancing people. 

Charlie had the impression of whirling, dancing colours, of swirling music with a beat that made her feet move with it. Of acrobats and bright lanterns in the shapes of fantastic beasts, flowers, moons and stars. There were lamps hanging from the ceiling high above them, huge candles and mirrors everywhere and at the very apex of the roof there was a gigantic lamp in the shape of a full moon, its geographic features detailed so that it seemed that the real moon hung there bright and gleaming down onto the bright scenes below…

‘Oh…’ she breathed, looking up at Bass.

His jaw had dropped slightly then he laughed, turning to Sam, ‘this is incredible.’ 

Sam smiled, his eyes proud, ‘Sure is, it’s based it on a set from the Matrix of course, with a bit of LOTR thrown in… I tell you what, being part of building this place is about the best thing I’ve ever done, apart from marry my wife Jen of course.’ Then he cleared his throat. ’Folks, before we go down, I just need to tell you a few things, ok?’ He looked at Bass, his eyes very serious, although he was still smiling. 

Bass nodded, ‘we’re listening.’

Sam took a deep breath, ‘well, we believe in respecting privacy here, and we keep things from the old days quiet and mind our own business about names and such. They’re the old days and gone now.’ He frowned a little and nodded to himself, eyes distant. Then he looked at Bass again, ‘Jimmy, you look old enough to maybe recognise a few faces down there, and if you do, wait for them to introduce themselves, ok?’ 

There was something in Sam’s voice that had Bass wondering if maybe Sam was warning him that a few people might recognise him too… 

Then the older man turned and smiled gently at Charlie ‘I think you’re too young, darlin’ but if you do happen to remember having seen someone somewhere on tv or something before the power went kablooey – just do the same, pretend you don’t ok?’ He looked at Bass. ‘Folk’s’ll tell you who they are now, and they’ll wait for you to do the same.’ He clapped his hands together, face creased in a wide smile. ’Ok, that’s about all I’ve got to say, for now anyway. So lets go party! There’s a whole lot of people who are waiting to meet you.’ 

There was a curving ramp hugging the wall that slowly descended to the floor of the space, and as they followed it down, Charlie and Bass saw Petra at the bottom of the ramp, standing next to an older man in a wheelchair whose white hair curled in bright contrast to the warm, deep brown of his skin…

Next to them, standing tall and wearing proud and excited smiles, were the two girls they had met earlier when they first woke, and behind them was a semi-circle of assorted other people, all looking up at them… 

Bass looked at Charlie and held out his arm, his eyes very blue, intense…

She put her arm through his, shrugged and grinned. ‘Let’s go party, Jimmy.’ 

…………………………………………….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thanks for reading! And I hope you enjoyed this bit, more soon!! ☺ cheers, Magpie.


	6. Under a paper moon...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: thanks so much for reading and for being patient. RL is being a bit demanding at the moment lol!! ☺ I hope you enjoy this one - it is a bit longer than I planned, so it's kind of like two chapters for the price of one :) Magpie

The music swirled closer and louder as Charlie and Bass followed Sam down past bright, vibrant murals and old movie posters set around the walls of the long curving ramp leading down from the mezzanine to the group waiting in the hall at the bottom. The pictures showed painted scenes and posters from pre-blackout movies, portraits of musicians, actors and celebrities from a past that to Charlie seemed almost mythical. 

She looked around, eyes wide as Bass told her about them, names like Beyonce, the Rolling stones and Star wars strange echoes from a time when people didn’t always have to worry about catching their next meal or if the guys in a bar were going to drug and rape them. It all seemed to hit her at once and she slowed down, her mind spinning with the tragedy of everything that was gone, staring at a framed poster of a blond girl, about her own age, wearing a tiny, totally impractical outfit, riding what looked like a big metal ball hanging from a chain and looking as though she didn’t have a care or a worry in the world. She didn’t know what was coming. None of them had known what was coming...

Bass slowed too, watching her face, and his arm tightened around her waist. ‘Hey, they’re just pretty dreams.’

‘How did you have the time for all that stuff?’ she shook her head, ‘and why did you want it anyway?’ 

He shrugged, ‘people had time to get bored then and they thought they had it hard. They wanted to be entertained, to escape, and they wanted to believe that dreams could come true.’ 

‘I dream about Dad sometimes, and the tower,’ a frown line creased her brow, ‘and I used to dream about killing you.’ She glanced up at him, her eyes bottomless, swirling blue. ‘But when I wake up it all still happened and everyone’s still dead. Dreams don’t change anything.’

He was silent for a moment, walking slowly beside her, ‘don’t you think about things getting better someday?’

She shrugged, looking up at him, her eyes looking like they had when she woke up after Pottsboro, haunted… ‘No… I believe in fighting for my family, and for what’s right and maybe staying alive for as long as I can. I don’t believe in dreams.’ 

Bass stared into those eyes, worried, ‘Charlie…’

Sam glanced back at them, curious, a little anxious, ‘are you folks ok back there?’

Charlie pulled in a deep breath and nodded, ‘we’re ok. It’s just…’

Bass tightened his arm around her, ‘it’s been a long day Sam, and this is a lot to take in.’

Sam smiled, his eyes gentle, looking from one to the other, ‘yeah, the old place can be a bit overwhelming at first.’ he sped up a bit, the colours of his suit and in his hair gleaming in the lamplight... ‘Come on you two, something to eat and a few glasses of our special brew and you’ll be right as rain.’

Charlie managed to smile back. Their guide was so earnest, so sweet, it was hard to be negative. ‘Thanks, Sam.’

After that they walked quietly for a while, just looking, and gradually she felt better…

Rich scents and warm spices rose up to meet them, sweet, sour and everything in between. The warm yeasty goodness of fresh baked bread, the tang of citrus, the sweet bite of garlic and the fire of chilli and curry, all floating up in aromatic clouds as the ramp curved high over tables filled with food and drink placed around the outside edges of the hall below them. And as they passed arched alcoves set into the walls, flowers and herbs seemed to reach out with fragrant fingers from their vases and bowls…

Charlie heard her belly growl, loud and demanding as they got closer to the bottom even though she’d eaten plenty back in their room. In the ordinary world, outside this place, food other than what she caught or found was hard to come by, even in the towns and the sheer quantity of tantalizing and unfamiliar smells down below was putting her stomach on high alert. Then something sweet, she didn’t know what in all the dozens of different smells, triggered a memory of eating ice cream, lots and lots of ice cream, her dad giving her another tub even though she’d still been eating her way through the one she had... 

She glanced up at Bass.

He was scanning the room, above and below them, looking at everything, his eyes intense and alert, evaluating, cataloguing, automatically noting exits, escape routes... 

For a moment, Charlie could see the general in the confident stride, the sleek clothes, the arrogant, alpha tilt of his head and the avid, intense interest on his face. Then he turned to her, his eyes so blue they shimmered, the wide, white toothed, open smile and clean, shiny and wild golden brown curls making him look younger, almost impossibly good looking, and it was as though the general had never been. 

He was an enigma, a puzzle. One that she wanted to solve…

He pulled her against him, his arm hard and strong around her waist but his fingers gentle on her skin, his breath warm on her ear, ‘I hope you’re still hungry, I think they’ve got everything down there.’

She grinned back up at him, ‘you just watch me.’

His eyes gleamed and he nibbled her ear as they passed one of the alcoves and out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimmer of movement inside it. A large, shiny black cat, crouched almost invisible in the shadows of the small space followed her with grass green eyes as they went past, and another on the floor, ginger with white splashes, flashed a bright gold and orange stare at her before it turned, climbing in a graceful leaping run back along the ramp… 

She laughed and something loosened up inside her that had tightened up again after their talk about stupid, hopeless dreams, something that had been relaxed and loose after what had happened in the shower, the bath. She turned towards Bass, her fingers twining through his and found him already looking at her.

His thumb traced circles around her palm. His other hand sliding smoothly along the waist high rail of the carved wooden balustrade beside them guiding them downwards, and his eyes staying locked on hers as they followed the gentle slope downwards, so much emotion swimming in their blue depths that she couldn’t look away… 

She stretched up, offering her mouth to him, diving into the blue… 

Bass gazed down at her, his eyes getting closer and closer until he found her lips with his, his tongue tasting, delving deep, tasting her courage, her sorrow, her resilience and the way she went open hearted and so bravely into life in spite of everything that had happened to her. And a harsh, grating regret stirred in his soul that they would soon be back outside, that they needed to go back to the hard and hurting world outside because someone had to do something about the damn Patriots, and if it wasn’t him and Miles – and Charlie now, maybe, as well as the rest of her motley little tribe, then who? Texas? The broken remains of Georgia and his militia? The Clans? 

Their being here was a dream he knew couldn’t last because if someone didn’t go up against the bastards now, this place and any others like it would be found eventually no matter how much they tried to hide or how deep they dug into the mountains. 

He pulled himself back from that thought, because maybe he needed to stop thinking so much and enjoy the moment. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, loving her eager response… 

The two guards behind them exchanged eye rolls and stopped a few feet away. 

Charlie didn’t even realise they’d stopped moving, all she felt was his heart beating against her shoulder, his arms hard and strong around her, his eyes blue blown to black and burning into hers as he pulled back a little, and her own eyes widened when she saw the hunger, the searing need in them. 

She licked her lips, tasting him, watching his eyes follow the path of her tongue. 

He stared down at her. She looked beautiful, exotic and very sexy in the borrowed clothes, although even dirty and in rags she’d been enough to make him want her more than anything he’d wanted in a long, long time. He remembered her in that pool, facing him down, all rebellion, scorn and defiance, and then in Pottsboro fighting those bastards with everything she had even though there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d make it. She’d woken something in him that he’d really thought was dead and the memories of being buried deep inside her, her body hot and strong and eager were running like a movie in his head. He sucked in a breath, reminding his dick that there were people around them and that having a raging hard on was so not a good thing right now. 

He let go of her hand to circle her slim waist, pressing her tight against him, fingers stroking the warm smooth skin of her belly and back through the leather fringes of her top for a moment then moving downwards, stroking over the flexing muscles of her ass before moving back up to brush the side of her breast in its soft leather sheath.

Charlie felt their bodies move together in an easy rhythm as they started back down the ramp, his hand following the sway of her hips as she walked and she ran her hand up over the broad shoulders, along the strong lines of his neck and into those delicious curls, leaning her head on his shoulder, the dark leather smooth on her cheek and the light fabric of her skirt swishing out around her legs with every step, the air swirling round her legs unfamiliar, so different from her jeans... 

One of the guards walking behind them caught his breath, missed a step and had to shuffle to get back in time, earning a hard glance from the other one.

Bass noticed and chuckled. He didn’t care who saw them, and didn’t think Charlie cared either or she wouldn’t be doing what she was doing. He could feel a kind of recklessness in her now that echoed his own. Maybe this was a chance to escape for a while, and he wanted to take it… He leaned down and kissed her again as they moved along, her lips and tongue eager and waiting. And for a while there was only her, his arm around her, hers around him, his other hand still holding the balustrade and guiding them both as they kept on walking slowly down the ramp in time to the music. The sounds of the instruments and people laughing and talking coming and going as they moved around the ramp and the richly scented air swirling around them like warm honey…

Sam glanced back at two of them and sighed. It looked like they had something really good happening, and if they decided to leave he really hoped that they’d remember all that good again after a dose of Petra’s potion. But, and he sighed again, he was pretty sure that ‘if’ was a ‘when.’ They had the look of people making the most of every second of something because they knew there was an end coming to it. And he was sorry for that. They made a nice couple though…and so what if he was a bit older than her? That sort of connection was a rare thing and they were lucky to find it. He shrugged and kept walking, smiling to himself, thinking that the Scouts walking behind the two lovebirds would have some pretty good stories to tell later.

When they eventually had to come up for air Charlie felt Bass press against her, the lacing down the side of his pants brushing against her hip and leg through her skirt. The feel of the leather and the light and silky fabric was achingly, wonderfully erotic, setting every little hair on her legs buzzing and the fine, delicate skin of her inner thighs brushed together as she walked, squeezing her pulsing clit at every step, keeping her high… She felt clean for the first time in a long, long time too and shivered, her insides dissolving to liquid again remembering the feel of Bass, full and thick and hard inside her, his body tall and strong close to hers under streaming, bubbling warm water. 

She took a deep breath, it wasn’t helping her keep things under control that at each step the leather of her top rubbed a little over kiss sensitive nipples and the leather and bead fringes gently brushed against the bare skin of her belly. The silky underwear someone had very kindly provided was wet between her legs, the tender flesh of her pussy swollen and tingling from earlier, and damn it she was ready for more, her body remembering the feel of his hands, his... Shit…she really, really couldn’t wait until she and Bass could be alone again. She slid a glance up at him. 

His hand was clenched on the balustrade, knuckles white and his face tight with strain. 

She smirked, looking down, it looked like he was having the same trouble she was only for him it was a little… well ok, a hell of a lot more obvious. She poked him under the ribs with a pointed finger. 

He jumped. His breath hitching. ‘What…?’ 

She grinned, ‘thought you might need a little help keeping your mind on the here and now.’

He choked off a laugh, an eyebrow arching. ‘You’re right about that...’ He cleared his throat, ‘how about we talk about something boring for a minute.’

‘Like what?’ 

He looked pained, ‘I don’t know, anything.’

It was probably lucky that they were getting closer to the bottom of the ramp and the people waiting there because she couldn’t think of one damn boring thing… 

Then Charlie felt his hand slide from around her waist, reluctant, fingers lingering on her skin. She put her hand over his, not wanting to lose contact, almost past wondering at how fast she’d come to see him as something close to a partner, someone she wanted to fight alongside, someone she trusted at her back... One thing for sure was that she was glad he was there. She wasn’t nervous exactly, but no matter how nice Sam was, they didn’t know these people, didn’t know what to expect... 

Bass took a deep breath. Showtime... 

He looked down and saw a tall woman standing behind Petra and the girls they’d met earlier. The alert but relaxed stance and bearing shouted seasoned warrior and he realized that this had to be the weapons master Petra had told them about. 

The woman was easily as tall as him and beautiful, her skin gleaming in shades of dark caramel and honey, black hair cropped close to her scalp and close fitting black leather tank and pants and heavy boots showing off a long, lean and muscled body. She radiated confidence, competence and authority. 

Hanging at her left side he recognised the hilt and hang of a Light Cavalry sabre and from her right hip, the familiar shape of a machete, both weapons suspended in their sheaths from well fitting and well worn crossed leather belts and thigh straps… 

He gently nudged Charlie, his eyes darting to the woman. 

She got it straight away, of course, and as she looked, amusement mixed with admiration shone in her gaze. The woman looked capable and very dangerous, and reminded her a little of Nora. She grinned, turning back to him, ‘I think she might actually be interested in what you can do with a sword Jimmy…’ 

Sam stepped up close, ‘Thea is something else’ his face was proud, admiring. ‘She’s never been beaten in the practice ring, or in a fight…’ 

Bass looked at her with a new interest and realised that she was looking directly back at him, her eyes a golden brown in the striking face. There was a cool assessment of him in those eyes that seemed natural in the circumstances but there was something else there too that he couldn’t quite work out. It was like she was trying to make up her mind about something…

As they reached the bottom, Petra and the two girls came forward to greet them. Alice was Petra and William’s granddaughter, and Sophie, her blue-eyed friend, their adopted daughter. Sam had told them on the way that Alice and Sophie’s parents had been away together in Georgia on a trading run when the bombs fell, so William and Petra were their family now. The girls were in white ballet dresses and tights, with flowers in their slicked back hair and wide smiles on their faces.

Bass had another flashback to his sisters as the two figures came towards them. Memories of being a stand in partner and barre with a sister on each arm making him smile, although he had to blink back stinging tears too, it still hurt after all this time…

Alice and Sophie escorted them to William, Petra going to stand next to his wheelchair, a slim hand caressing a frail, crooked shoulder. 

Bass took the thin, twisted hand held out to him to shake, careful not to put too much pressure on it.

William smiled up at him, his eyes old and pain filled but still sharp and very astute. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he glanced at Charlie, his eyes kind as well as clever, ‘you’re both very welcome in Xanadu.’

‘Thank you.’ Charlie smiled down at him and took his hand very gently in hers when it was her turn to greet him, a question in her eyes. 

‘Rheumatoid arthritis my dear’ he said calmly, ‘Petra helps as much as she can…’ he looked up at his wife, a tender smile on his face. ‘She keeps the pain at bay for me with her magic pills and potions.’ 

Petra leaned down and kissed his cheek.

He reached up and lightly patted her hand with his crooked fingers. 

’But I still can’t find a way to stop or cure it,’ her voice was a whisper, her eyes full of unspoken sorrow and a deep frustration. She looked at Charlie, ‘not yet...’

There was something in her eyes that Charlie couldn’t work out, something that reminded her of her mom and the kind of focus Rachel had when she was working on something, although there was kindness in Petra’s eyes too, not just cool calculation and scientific curiosity. 

Then Sophie came up to them with Alice just behind her, almost vibrating with excitement, obviously wanting to ask something. She had a box in one hand that looked a lot like one of the cameras that Danny had collected as a kid.

Petra and William exchanged a glance. They and all the other adults in the little reception party had seen their two guests with arms around each other, had noticed that heated kiss as they came down the ramp. 

Petra moved forward next to Charlie and she felt the older woman’s understanding and compassion like a warm wave radiating from the deep brown eyes smiling at her. She couldn’t remember her mother ever looking at her like that, not ever... 

‘Sophie dear.’ Petra quietly took the small hand, bending to Sophie’s height. ‘I know you’re excited about having new people to photograph but it might be better to talk about that tomorrow after they’ve had a chance to rest, ok?’ 

Sophie’s face fell. ’Oh, Petra…please?’ 

The older woman shook her head, ‘Charlotte and James are our guests. They’re hungry and tired and we need to think about their needs, not ours.’ 

Sophie sighed. Then nodded, ‘ok…’ although disappointment still wreathed her face.

Alice came close, putting her arm around her friend, looking up at Bass and Charlie ‘could we talk to you tomorrow then. Please?’ 

Bass smiled down at the two small faces, his teeth very white and the bright blue eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘I hope so but we’ll need to check with Petra in the morning, ok?’ 

They both nodded, staring, eyes wide.

Charlie hadn’t realised that a smile could light up someone’s face like that, or that Sebastian Monroe would be so good with children… But it worked. The girls were looking up at him as though the sun had just come out.

The smile turned into a grin and he dropped to one knee, the blue eyes sparkling. ‘You know what I think?’ he looked from one to the other, ‘It looks to me as though you might be dancers as well as astronomers and photographers and singing scouts?’ 

Sophie nodded, her cheeks pink, ‘the company’s doing Swan Lake and we’re two of the cygnets…’ 

‘You are?’ he said, blowing a breath out between his teeth. ‘That’s amazing.’ 

Charlie watched him, and wondered again what had happened to turn a man who’d take the time to be kind to two little girls into the General Monroe she had met in Philadelphia – the man she had wanted so much to kill, until somehow they’d up here, together. 

William had been watching too, and he as well as many of the other adults standing around were wearing indulgent smiles. ’It’s getting late you two’ he clapped his hands lightly, ‘there’s lots to do tomorrow and it’s time you got some sleep.’ 

Bass stood up again, and after some parting glances at him and Charlie and goodnights to Petra and William the two girls left, running and dancing up the ramp with the easy grace of the young and healthy. 

William followed them with his gaze, his eyes full of worry. Then he turned back to the others. ‘I’m frightened for them’ he said, his face drawn, lips tight. ‘I’m frightened because I’m not certain we can protect them from what I think is coming.’ 

Petra laid her hand on his shoulder, her face calm but tension around her eyes too. ‘We’ll think of a way, William, I’m sure of it.’ Her eyes moved to Charlie and Bass, a cautious hope in them...

William turned to the weapons master, ‘Thea?’

Thea strode smoothly forward, followed by two of her Scouts in similar solid black uniforms.

Bass noted the weapons. They were all loaded for bear so at least they were getting prepared. 

‘Yes William?’ her voice was as smooth as her stride, low and melodic. 

The older man turned to Bass and Charlie. ‘James and Charlotte, I’d like to introduce you to Thea Anderson, our Master’ he smiled again, ‘or rather Mistress of arms.’ 

Thea nodded, ‘glad to meet you both.’ 

Charlie saw only calm interest and anticipation in the golden brown eyes and she was almost disappointed. She’d kind of expected some salivating over Bass and his swords, although he wasn’t wearing them at the moment of course…

‘Thea was in charge of the group who brought you to us. James’, William sat back in his chair, visibly wilting, his voice fading a little. ‘She saw you performing your sword drills and we’d very much like to ask if there is anything you can suggest we add to our training routines? Tomorrow maybe?’ He looked at Bass then Charlie. ’Petra offered you our hospitality for tonight whether or not you decided to join us, but I’d like to invite you to stay as long as you like – I ask only that you provide us with whatever advice you think may be helpful in defending ourselves from a threat that I think we all know is nearly at our door.’ 

Charlie reached out and placed her hand on Bass’ forearm, squeezed...

He turned to her and there was another moment of that strange, wordless communication. 

She understood the urgency that he’d tried to get her to feel back on that road outside New Vegas now, when he’d shown her the symbol on the wanted poster and said it was the same as the one that Randall Flynn had worn. She was worried about Miles, her mom and her grandpa and wanted to get to Willoughby soon, before the Patriots did, but if they could do something to help here, maybe they’d have some allies too? Surely it’d help them all in the long run… 

Bass turned to William and Petra, and then glanced back at Thea. 

She was waiting for their answer, her eyes calm but intent on his.

He was certain now that at least some of these people knew who he really was, even though they seemed happy to continue the charade, probably because they realized that not all of their citizens would welcome him. Many people still believed the rumours and thought he’d dropped the bombs on Philly and Atlanta. 

William and Petra also seemed to understand the extent of the threat that the Patriots posed to all of them too and were willing to ask for help to prepare a defence. He wasn’t sure that he was the person they should be asking for help from though. He’d lost both his republic and his city. But he was here and knew a hell of a lot about military strategy and he was very, very good at killing. Surviving too apparently. 

But if they knew about him, maybe they knew about Charlie too? How much had they heard back at the campsite, and how good was their intelligence? There was something about the way Petra had looked at her that made him wonder. Petra was a scientist, and obviously a good one, maybe she knew about Rachel? Knew that there might still be a way to get the power back on? And if they knew about Rachel, then they’d also know that Charlie was related to the infamous General Miles Matheson. 

He took a deep breath, ok. It’d be better for all of them, better for Charlie to have these people on their side. He placed his free hand over hers, squeezing gently where it rested on his arm, ‘I’ll be happy to help out if I can.’

Charlie nodded. The thought of what would happen to this place – and the people in it, if the fanatics who created Randall Flynn found it made her blood run cold.

William sighed heavily. ’Thank you, it means a lot to me, to all of us…’ he smiled up at them from his chair. ’And we are very grateful.’ He reached up and found Petra’s hand, ’now, please enjoy the party, Sam will stay with you as your host.’ He was still smiling but looked very tired. ‘I’m afraid that I must retire myself now.’ He sighed, lines of exhaustion harsh around his mouth, dark circles under his eyes. ‘Sam will come for you in the morning and we’ll have breakfast together, ok? We can discuss things further then.’ 

Petra moved behind William’s chair, took hold of the handles and smiled her thanks ‘we’ll see you in the morning then, enjoy yourselves, and have a good rest.’ She glanced between the two of them and some mischief returned to her eyes ‘well, enjoy yourselves anyway.’ she smiled goodbye and pushed the chair away. 

Thea turned to Bass and inclined her head very slightly towards him. ‘Thank you.’ Then she swung round to Charlie, her full lips parting in a smile that showed off straight, white teeth. ‘I like your style with the crossbow Charlotte, three rabbits and each one a clean shot, maybe you could give us a demonstration too?’ 

Charlie was a little startled. Thea was a surprise in lots of ways but she was starting to like her. ‘Sure, and thank you, but call me Charlie?’ She was proud of her skills although it was unsettling to think that she had had no idea that this woman had been close enough to see how cleanly she could shoot. 

There was another bright smile, ‘thank you, Charlie.’ She nodded a farewell to Sam, and turned to go. ‘I’ll look forward to seeing you all tomorrow.’ She slid her eyes to the side and the two Guards who’d followed them from their room nodded a slightly regretful farewell and fell in behind her. 

…………………………………

For Charlie the first part of the evening with Sam as guide passed in a blur of quick introductions to people whose names and faces went by so fast it didn’t matter if they were their real ones or not because she probably wouldn’t remember anyway. There were tables full of delicious food, rich wine, fierce whiskey and the energetic, pulsing music got louder as they got nearer the big stage at one end of the room. 

The band played songs that Charlie was amazed to find Bass knew and even sang along with sometimes, although it was hard to hear him above the other noise. And every now and then she saw his eyes rest for just a moment too long on a face, recognition flaring like a brief shock. Then he’d blink and look away, a kind of sadness flickering in his eyes… 

Somewhere during the night, Sam’s wife Jen joined them. About the same age as her husband, her hair was a brilliant henna red and she was dressed in flowing rainbow colours as bright as his and she led them off, laughing and a little drunk, pushing through a dance floor crowded with sweaty, hot bodies. 

The air was hot too, and the music was getting even louder, the multitude of lamps swaying from the ceiling and the walls in the breezes created by the dancing and the rising heat. There were lots of slightly drunken, disjointed, laughing conversations with the many people who came up to meet them – although any questions were usually about what Bass and Charlie thought about Xanadu. No one asked about what was happening outside. Or what she and Bass/Jimmy did out there, or even how they got here. It was as though nothing existed for them but here and now… 

After a while, the questions faded away and Charlie found herself leaning against Bass as they swayed together near the back of the dance floor, exhaustion and whisky making everything feel strange, surreal, her arms around his neck and her cheek against his chest, counting his heartbeats.

Bass held on to Charlie as if she was an anchor, his arms around her waist, fingers trailing over the bare skin at her back, his lips against her hair... The feel of her, so warm and vibrant, so alive against him was something he wanted to remember forever, and maybe the alcohol, or the drugs they’d had in the food, or the long days without sleep were catching up to him because at the moment she felt like his only connection to the real world. Everything around him, all of this, was suddenly too much, too overwhelming.

He’d seen faces that were familiar from places and times before the blackout but, as Sam had said, here they seemed to be just part of the group, getting no special attention and seeming perfectly happy with that. And on seeing them, older now, like him, he’d felt a deep and profound sadness because there were so many faces that weren’t there… So much had been lost. 

He remembered a time when trivial things had seemed important, like who won the series or what was trending on twitter – or in his case getting pleasantly drunk and laid as often as he could. And for a moment he wondered what had happened to the twenty two year old girl he’d been texting the night of the blackout. She was probably dead now, or working for someone like Gould. 

Fuck, there were way too many ghosts in his head…

They’d all taken so much for granted and now the world seemed to be caught up in a kind of Darwinian nightmare. People got eaten up by whoever was bigger or meaner than they were unless they gave in or ran away and hid, and even then, like William, they lived in fear that the next predator would find a way in. 

Or they tried to pretend that the predators didn’t exist.

Now there were the fucking Patriots, the next big bad. And the bastards who had dropped the bombs on his city were threatening everyone he had left, threatening Miles – threatening Charlie. His grip on her waist tightened, spasmed.

Startled, she looked up at him, her smile fading when she saw the look in his eyes. The anguish and building fury she saw there made her reach up and take his face in her hands, making him look at her, ‘Hey, It’s ok, we’re ok.’

He wrapped his arms round her, his face buried in her hair and she was a rock in his storming sea, saving him from being pulled under. He shuddered and wound himself even tighter round her, ‘Charlie…’

She could feel the tension and barely contained need thrumming through his body like a bow ready to fly, his heart beating so fast that it felt like the drums. 

‘Charlie?’ he choked out her name again, then caught her mouth in a kiss that felt as though he was trying to pull her soul out through her lips... 

Sam and Jen were dancing nearby and shared a look. A lot of people came to Xanadu traumatised by what they’d experienced on the outside and for many of them there was a point where it all fell apart. So Sam quietly tapped Charlie on the shoulder and he and Jen led the two of them to a part of the hall far away from the stage where it was quiet and away from the crowds.

They pulled up by a closed, arched wooden door, Sam’s face flushed from the heat but his eyes kind, concerned, his eyes on Bass, standing just behind Charlie, face rigid, strained. ‘There’s a place in here where you two can be on your own for a bit. Get your breath back.’ 

Charlie nodded, grateful, ‘thanks.’

Sam picked up a lantern that was on the floor, lit it and opened the door, ‘Come on in then.’ 

Charlie followed him in, pulling Bass behind her, then stopped, looking up.

She gasped. ‘Wow.’ In the ceiling a few metres above their heads was a wide oval skylight, open to the stars. It was like being in a deep hole in the ground, or a tunnel.

Sam and Jen were walking round, lighting the large candles set on sconces around the curved walls. 

Jen turned and smiled, gentle, calm, ‘it’s pretty good isn’t it?’ 

The room slowly got light enough to see the floor. There were piled cushions and rugs scattered round, a table with jugs of water and a couple of bottles of wine and whiskey...

‘William calls this our chill out room,’ Jen came over, patting Charlie on the arm and glancing up at the still silent Bass as she went past heading for the door, ‘so why don’t you two just relax and chill and we’ll come back in an hour or so and see how you’re going.’ 

Sam followed her out, waving as he went, ‘now don’t worry, no one’ll disturb you, we’ll put the sock on the door handle.’ He smiled back at them through the door, his hair flipping sideways, bleached even paler in the candlelight, the green and purple stripes lurid. ‘Everyone knows that that means stay out.’

He shut the door behind him.

Outside, Sam put the yellow sock hanging on a hook next to the door over the doorknob. Then he took Jen’s hand in his and kissed her palm.

She circled into his arms, her skirts swinging out. ’Poor things.’ 

Sam hugged her, ‘It’s easy to forget how lucky we are.’ 

…………………………………..

Bass had been very quiet during the walk over, never letting go of her hand, her arm or her waist and as soon as Sam and Jen were out of the room he took her in his arms again, holding her as close as he could although more gently this time. ‘I’m sorry Charlie.’ His voice was quiet, tight. 

She looked up at him, feeling the tension in the rigid muscles of the body pressed against hers. 

He pulled back a little, looking down into her eyes. ‘I’m sorry for everything I did to you and your family, and I need to know if you can forgive me?’ He sighed out a breath, the scruff on his cheek brushing against her hair. Then he let her go and stepped back, waiting. The rapid rise and fall of his chest, the tightness in his face, the lines around his mouth and his hands clenching and unclenching the only signs of how much her response meant to him.

She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to forgive him for what had happened, to Danny, her dad, to Nora and for so many other things. She didn’t know if she ever would be ready. But things were different now. Now she wanted to understand how and why it had all gone wrong. ’Bass...’ She refused to call him Jimmy, it was too small a name for him…

He stood there, a big part of him expecting her to condemn him, reject him, even after what they had had together, or maybe even because of that. 

She let out a deep breath and looked up at him, her eyes so serious that he could feel his heart start to seize up, and he braced himself, although he knew he would fall into the abyss anyway. 

‘I don’t know if any of this’ll mean anything after we leave here,’ she swallowed and looked away ‘and I don’t know if I’ll be able to forget some of the things that happened before.’ 

His hands tightened at his sides and his belly tensed, waiting for the blow, expecting it. But then she turned back to him and she smiled, a small, sad smile but it was still a smile, and he would take anything he could get from her, anything at all. 

She moved closer, her hands stroking up over his chest to his shoulders. ‘But I do know that I want to try. Because things are different now, aren’t they?’ Her hands slid around him and spread out over his back, pulling him close. ‘This means something, doesn’t it?’

He started breathing again, sliding back from the edge of the precipice, his hands unclenching. ‘Yeah, it means something. It means a whole lot.’

She blew out a long breath, then frowned and stepped back again, her eyes laughing up at him but still shining with the suspicion of tears. ‘Why the hell did you have to pick a name like Jimmy anyway, it’s a really stupid name…’ 

He choked out a laugh ‘It’s a long story, and you can’t talk, Charlie.’ 

She punched him hard on the bicep of his right arm, ‘that’s different, it’s my name.’ 

He knew he’d treasure the bruise...

Then she stepped towards him again, her arms reaching up to circle around his neck, her mouth finding his like it was coming home and as he bent forwards to meet her she sent her hands downwards to his belt, her fingers frantic, undoing the buckle and working on the buttons of his pants. 

He framed her face with his hands for a moment, their mouths still joined, lips and tongues exploring, tasting... Then he stroked his way down her body with her leather clad breasts pressed tight against his chest, the soft globes erupting above leather seams like tempting treats for his fingers, his lips. 

He slid his hands down to her ass, his fingers spreading over the springy flesh, feeling her gasp against his mouth. Then he went lower, her lips following him down, his hands catching the edges of her skirt and flipping it out of the way, going underneath to stroke a hand up each of her strong lean legs, the little hairs on her thighs catching on the skin of his palms and sending tingles along his nerve endings straight to his cock – freed and hard and ready after waiting for what had seemed like a fucking age. 

He gasped, and in one movement hooked his thumbs over the top of her panties, sliding them down past her knees. Then he brought his hands back up her legs and – finally – reached her pussy, finding her molten and so wet that he’d be glad to drown in her. ‘Charlie?’ His breath was hot against her open mouth and he tasted curry and whisky and the sweet spiciness that was hers alone… 

Her glazed blue eyes focused on his, the pupils blown to black. ‘If you ask me one more time if I really want to do this, Bass Monroe, I swear I’ll…’ 

He laughed, low in his throat, triumph and lust making him hoarse, breathless... ’That’s the last thing I want to ask you,’ and suddenly she was in the air, his arms hard and strong beneath her knees and back. ‘I just wanted to warn you that I was going to do this.’ 

And then she was thrown onto a pile of soft cushions, looking up at the skylight, skirt up around her waist, her panties flung – somewhere, and he was above her, his face a shadow surrounded by stars, eclipsed briefly while he stripped his pullover over his head and flung that too, his pants following them, his body big and strong and warm settling in between her thighs as though he was made to be there. 

She flung her legs up and wrapped his hips, her feet crossing behind the springy cheeks of his ass.

And then he was all the way inside her in one stroke, hot, thick and hard, so hard that he slammed her back into the cushions, the soft stuff giving way like clouds, scattering around them, his eyes shining above her like stars, holding hers, possessive, demanding everything… 

She laughed, gasping because it felt so fucking good. The slick, wet, sound of flesh in flesh rose up into the air as her hands roamed over the hard muscle of the arms and broad shoulders braced on either side of her and holding his body high up above hers as his hips and strong legs drove his cock in again and again so deep she could feel every inch, every bit of him, all the way inside, the soft globes of his balls hitting the inner cheeks of her ass at every stroke, her belly tightening as her every nerve and particle in her spiralled faster and faster…

And up above them, through the skylight, she could see the stars dancing their long, slow dance to their own music.

She laughed again – there was even a shooting star. She just had enough left of herself that could think to make a wish, then she forgot everything but him.

………………………………………………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN… Thanks so much for reading, I haven’t had a lot of time for writing lately but hopefully more very soon!! All the best and hope to see you at the next chapter…☺ Magpie


	7. Awakenings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: thanks so much for sticking with me on this one, and thank you for some lovely comments, ☺ I hope you enjoy this one.

Charlie woke up slowly, the soft dawn sun coming down in shafts from the ceiling high above them. She yawned and licked her lips, jaw cracking and bits of her aching but in a really good way. Then she winced, having a hangover wasn’t so good but at least her head was pillowed on a warm, muscled shoulder. She rubbed her cheek on it. His skin was smooth and smelled of his sweat mingled with hers...

He murmured something into her hair that she couldn’t quite catch, his arm tightening around her waist and his cock twitching where it was tucked in the cleft between her ass cheeks. 

She settled back against him, enjoying the strange luxury of his big, sleeping body surrounding hers as her mind went back to last night. 

The two of them had eventually left the chill out room to find Sam and Jen in a pile of limbs and mussed clothing on one of the big, comfy couches set up around the quieter edges of the huge space. They were smoking something sweet and looked flushed and very, very relaxed.

After that things got a little hazy. There’d been a lot more wine and whisky. Lots more food, someone taking photos, and a woman making sketches of them. That had been interesting. No one had made pictures of her before, that she knew of anyway. She’d been really impressed. The two artists had promised to show her the finished pieces. She just hoped they’d be here long enough…

Then Bass found some musicians that he seemed to recognise, although he only ever used the names they gave him. And they’d sat and listened for hours while people joined in or danced or tapped on something. 

She hummed quietly, remembering the rhythms… 

The lamps had swayed in the heat from all the bodies and everyone had been covered in coloured lights that moved and danced with them and made the paintings and sculptures around the room seem to come alive. 

And once it had even seemed as though one of the curling leafy vines that hung from everywhere and everything around the big room had reached out a tendril towards her? At first she’d thought she’d had too much to drink or the sweet smoke had her seeing things. But when she stroked it gently with her finger it had slowly wafted away, nodding gently, a cloud of small bright green lights fluttering around it, like glow worms or fireflies maybe? The lights had swirled gently in and around the leaves then winked out. 

She’d smiled at them, wondered briefly what they were and then Bass had swung her back into the dance and she forgot all about them.

It had been a very good night. She couldn’t remember ever having so much simple fun, not since some of the parties in Sylvania Estates. Before Tom Neville came marching in and everything changed. 

She sighed. It was hard to believe in here that out in the real world things were so very different. Last night she’d watched amazed as Sebastian Monroe smiled and sang songs and joked with his eyes full of laughter because she hadn’t imagined he could be like that. It was like she was seeing the man he might have been if the blackout hadn’t happened.

Then gradually, people had slipped away with smiles and promises to catch up and sometime after that she and Bass had followed Sam and Jen, all four of them laughing drunk, stumbling up a winding staircase as Sam led them on yet another way back to their room. She remembered hanging onto the rail, almost, almost tipping over and Bass moving in a lightening flash of strong arms and solid chest, pulling her back from the edge.

He’d looked absolutely and totally sober in that moment, his eyes on hers in that intense way he had. ‘Careful,’ he’d whispered in her ear, holding her tight, ‘don’t want to lose you.’

He’d held on to her all the way up after that, somehow always between her and the rail until they were back at their door. He’d kept close to her even then. Not that she’d minded, her brain and body wanting him even closer, she'd hardly been able to keep her hands off him while Sam and Jen wished them a blurry good night with laughing promises to come back for them in the morning. 

Then they’d tumbled inside and onto the beautiful soft bed and into each other. And as the memory of what happened then sent a delicious shiver all the way through her she ran a hand down over her breasts and down between her legs, fingers playing with her still sensitive clit and sending an almost instant orgasm thrumming through her whole body, her breath rushing out of her lips in a gasp of pleasure. 

When she opened her eyes again, she found him gazing down at her, his eyes a warm swimming blue like the water at the edges of the ocean she’d seen on family holidays when she was very small. A beautiful blue with tiny turquoise ripples, glowing in the morning sun and for a long moment she just lost herself in those eyes, wondering what was happening to her. She couldn’t remember ever being like this with a man before, things were usually fast, furious. Sex, release. There’d been little time or place for tenderness.

He blinked and smiled, his lips close to hers, the little, curling hairs of his scruff glittering gold around his mouth as he watched her. ‘Good morning.’ He dropped a kiss on her still swollen lips, his moustache tickling the skin already sensitized from the night before. 

She lifted a hand, trailing her fingers in a line along his hair, brow and down the side of his face, feeling the fine cheekbones and defined jaw line under his skin and beard. ‘How long have you been awake?’ She returned the kiss. He tasted of whisky.

’A little while’ he shifted a little, his legs twining around hers. ‘Just enjoying the view.’ He cupped one of her breasts, the pad of his thumb teasing the nipple.

She looked down and watched as it came to attention like a trooper saluting a…well…a General, she laughed at the thought and her calm acceptance of it. Her body arched up towards him wanting more while the fingers of his other hand were busy making lazy spirals around her belly, trailing up and around her breasts then downwards again, softly exploring. His big fingers meeting hers, wrapping her hand in his bigger one then stroking down under the sheets.

Her eyes swept back up, at the long, muscled body framing hers, the broad golden chest stretching like a landscape above her, her long hair spreading itself in wild sunlit cloudy tangles around them both and the long hills and valleys of their hips and legs draped in the soft sheets and blankets. She stretched like a cat under him, her whole body humming with pleasure and any traces of a hangover evaporating like mist.

He chuckled, his lips on the soft flesh of her throat leaving trails of sensation and little shivers behind them as the morning light trickled down from the skylights in their room bathing everything in gentle shafts of light and a hint of heat to come.

She gasped as he flipped her on top of him, her hair hanging down and surrounding them in a golden haze. She could feel him, his thick cock hard between her legs and she slid her way down and over him, her pussy folds parting, taking him in with a now familiar stretch. Their juices from last night combining with new arousal to silkily smooth the way. 

They both sucked in a breath as she sat up, riding him, full to the brim. His cock was thick and hard inside her, his hands gripping her hips and holding her there for a long, delicious moment.

And pleasure was a sweet, timeless pulsing thing… 

…………………………………………….

 

Afterwards, they lay on the bed, spooned under the covers and the bright beams of morning sun until time started up again. 

Charlie reached an arm out to pick up the glass of water she’d had the presence of mind to put there last night on the side table, drinking half and lazily passing the rest to Bass. 

He drained it then reached over her to put it back, glancing over at the shower, ’might have to check out the hot water situation soon.’

Her eyes slanted at him, lips twitching, wondering if she’d worn him out enough to beat him in.

‘What…?’ he was laughing back down at her.

’I was just thinking,’ she shot him a quick wicked grin. ‘If we hadn’t eaten all the food I’d be happy to just stay here. We could have another shower and you could wash me again?’ She quirked an eyebrow, ‘then we could come back to bed and start over, Sam’d bring us more food.’ She licked her lips. ‘We wouldn’t ever have to leave.’

The laugh faded, his face going tight, closed. His eyes had darkened, gone serious and kind of sad.

She was instantly tense, her eyes moving in a reflex round the room to find the threat, although she couldn’t see anything, knew there wasn’t anything. ‘What is it?’ 

He sighed and lifted a hand up to his mouth to kiss her fingers. ‘If you want to stay here, Charlie, I’ll stay with you. If you want me to.’ 

Her eyes filled and she ran the fingers he’d just kissed over his lips to stop him saying anything else, her mind racing with the possibility of being free of all the crap, all the fighting, all the pain... 

She bit her own lip to keep from saying yes. Then she shook her head. Shit. ‘We can’t, you know we can’t.’ 

Then he was on top of her, pressing her back against the bed, his big hard body heavy and broad between her legs, spreading her wide, stretching her out underneath him with one hand, his other reaching back down, hooking under her knee, lifting her leg to open her up to him. 

And he was inside her again, so hard and so deep that she thought she would burst open from it. He took her as though he was starving and she was food and it was exactly what she wanted. What she needed. Because she wanted to stay here, with him, so much it hurt. 

Greedy and desperate they devoured each other again and again in a welter of bright, hard pleasure verging on pain, coming together in a rush of sensation, shuddering and gasping.

Then falling back, helpless and exhausted against the pillows… 

He turned to her, breathing hard, eyes fierce. ‘I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.’ 

She reached blindly for his hand and he grasped it like a lifeline. 

This place was a bubble, a dream, and she didn’t know how much of it they’d be able to take away with them. Or if she’d remember any of what had happened between them, remember him. 

‘I don’t want to go either Bass.’ Her voice was a whisper. ‘But I don’t know what else we can do.’

He pulled her into his arms, his body big and warm, strong and the shape of him almost familiar now. She closed her eyes, resting her cheek against the curve of his neck, the big pulse at his throat loud in her ear.

Somehow they both slept again.

When they woke next, there was another miraculous shower, although this time it was quiet and tender. Water fell gently over them, warm rather than hot, and they gave each other the slow, careful attention due to precious things. Treasuring each watery slide with lips and hands over smooth curves and hard edged flesh, each contour of soft tissue and firm muscle, each trace of bone found hard under skin, memorizing each scar, every mark. Hands tracing each separate limb and curling lock of hair.

And afterwards, there were big, fresh, soft towels and they dried each other, needing few words, just eyes, hands and the unspoken language that seemed to have grown between them.

………………………………….. 

After that, they got dressed, quietly. The room had been a cocoon, a refuge for a time. But they were leaving it.

Bass wore the black pants, top and duster he’d worn the day before. They were comfortable and practical and a whole lot cleaner than anything he’d worn since the Tower, even after a major party like the one last night. 

Charlie picked out a simple black tank top, leather jacket and pants from the clothes rack. They were similar to those she had found for Bass and made them look like a couple. She kind of liked that. Her claim on him would be understood loud and clear. 

She felt more like herself in the clothes too, or at least the self she’d become outside, the badass hunter and tracker. The killer. She fastened her belt, it was light without her knives, but it felt good. 

Then there was a loud knocking at the door and they both reached automatically for swords that weren’t there.

The door opened and Sam came in, strangely hesitant after being so friendly last night. He was in another of his monk outfits but instead of the affable smile they’d got used to seeing he looked dishevelled and agitated. 

Charlie relaxed her sword arm although she stayed alert. Beside her Bass was too, she could feel it. What had happened? 

Sam stood for a moment looking at Bass, then took a longer look at Charlie, uncertainty in his eyes. He cleared his throat. ‘Sorry to bust in on you both, but I really need to talk to you.’ He swallowed hard and managed a strained smile ‘Are you ready for breakfast?’ 

He was obviously making an effort to be reassuring. He was failing. 

Charlie glanced at Bass then back at the other man. ’Are you ok, Sam?’ 

Bass took a step closer to her. ‘What’s wrong?’ 

Sam took a deep breath, brushing a hand back through messy hair, the colours faded from last night. ‘Nothing… maybe… I don’t know really.’ He licked his lips. ‘It’s just…well, last night, while we were at the party? William was taken ill, very ill. Petra didn’t think he would make it this time. So she tried one of her new potions and it worked.’ He looked even more flustered. ‘It worked, but a whole lot better than she expected… In fact, well…’ He tailed off, turned to the door then looked back over his shoulder. ‘Come with me? Please? She wants to see you’ 

They exchanged glances, decided with a look to take their packs. Better to be ready to go if things went bad.

They grabbed their crap and followed him out the door…

Sam was hurrying along the corridor, leading them on yet another pathway through this maze of a building. As they went, the walls grew plainer although no less beautifully finished. There were fewer bright colours, more whites, greys and blues with flashes of scarlet and green. There were fewer potted plants too. Instead there were leafy vines trailing along the walls and ceiling, some with branches holding large white, trumpet shaped flowers. 

As they went, Sam touched a frond here and there and Charlie watched, her eyes wide as the plants curled back from his touch, the reaction travelling along their stems like waves, leaves retracting faster than they were walking. The moving leaves were heading the same direction as them. 

Sam was whispering a quiet word or two into each flower as they went, the heavy white flower heads nodding, almost as though they heard. 

Maybe the oddest thing was that he seemed to be listening to them too.

Bass glanced at Charlie. She was looking back at him, eyes wide...

What the hell was going on? 

…………………………………………..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: thank you for reading ☺ there are a few more chapters of the story and I'm working on the next one now, should be up soon, all the best. Cheers, Magpie.


	8. Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hi, and thanks so much for reading and for some lovely comments, I hope you enjoy this one :) cheers, Magpie

After what seemed like miles of branching vine-hung corridors, Bass, Charlie and Sam arrived at a plain, arched wooden door and Sam directed them inside. 

The room was a large, graceful, curved space lit from above by sun through stained glass. Closed doors at intervals round the sides led to other rooms. Vines hung around the walls and climbed up towards the skylights, stems undulating gently, their leaves slowly unfolding and curling back in a rhythm that flowed through the web of stems like waves under the sea. The heavy white flowers nodding their heads sent a haze of faint perfume wafting into the room. Charlie couldn’t work out what the scent reminded her of, but it was sweet and achingly familiar and made her think of long childhood summers with Danny, Maggie, Aaron and her dad. Before everything changed.

A low wooden table was placed in the centre of the room, obviously set for a meal with hessian wrapped jugs for drinks and covered baskets and plates of food. 

Petra was sitting on one of the comfortable chairs and couches set around the table, back straight, shoulders and arms tense, dressed this time in plain white t shirt and pants. She looked rumpled and tired, as though she hadn’t had much sleep. She looked up, gave them a quick nod then returned to her thoughts, hands restless in her lap. 

Sitting in an ordinary chair next to her, not in his wheelchair, was William, looking very different than when they’d last seen him. He was sitting upright, not slumped, eyes clear and alert and his face flushed with a healthy glow. He looked vigorous, younger, not at all like someone who’d been at death’s door the previous night. His hands were steepled together in front of his chest, the fingers straight and strong, no longer twisted and useless. 

Charlie was stunned, he almost didn’t look like the same person. 

He smiled, teeth very white against that dark skin, ’Welcome Charlotte, and Sebastian,’ he indicated the couch with one of those long-fingered hands. ‘Please, sit.’ 

Charlie froze then glanced up at Bass, a question in her eyes. They were trapped deep underground in a tangled maze of rooms and corridors surrounded by weird plants, armed guards, strange technology and a lot of potentially hostile party people. But if they needed to run, the odds weren’t that bad, she’d faced worse.

He shook his head, eyes calm and somehow not surprised at all. Then he held a hand out towards the couch next to William, ‘after you, Charlie.’

She stared at him for a moment, making sure he was serious, then sat down, her muscles still tight, feeling the cushions drop as he sat down next to her. What the fuck had they got themselves into. She’d felt safe here, far away from all the crap outside. And now? They knew who Bass was, maybe who she was too. The patriots already had a bounty of sixty diamonds on Bass and her mom, and they certainly wouldn’t knock back her daughter to use as leverage. She shrugged on the inside, they didn’t know her mom would be the last person that strategy would work on. 

Sam pushed out a breath through his teeth then dropped onto one of the other chairs, leaning forward to pour himself a drink, spilling some, his hand shaking slightly.

William reached across and took the bottle, pouring out drinks for Bass and Charlie. ‘You don’t seem surprised, Sebastian.’ 

Bass shrugged and stretched, getting comfortable. ‘It’s Bass, and I was pretty sure you knew who I was from the start, but when no one said anything about turning me in to the Patriots for the diamonds or lynching me on the spot I figured we were ok, especially when Sam gave that little talk about respecting secrets before the party.’ He looked around the room, his eyes hard, all General Monroe, ‘You can do what you want with me, but let Charlie go or I’ll show you why the rumours say I’m a monster.’

Charlie glared at him and he shrugged an apology. Shit. He hadn’t said a word to her about any of that and she was planning for them to have a little discussion about the meaning of partnership and the need to share essential intel the next time she had him on his own.

William sat back again taking a sip of his drink. ‘Please relax, there’s no need for you to be concerned. If anyone else recognised you last night they haven’t said anything about it. At this stage, Petra, Sam, myself and some of our most trusted scouts are the only ones who know who both of you are, and Thea of course. She was the one who identified you back at your camp.’ His dark, clever gaze went from Charlie to Bass, ‘we’ve tried to show you that we mean you no harm. In fact, we’re hoping you can help us.’ He waved a hand at the food on the table, ‘so have something to eat, you’re both safe here, or as safe as any of us are these days.’ He picked up a plate for himself and when Petra leaned forwards automatically to help him, he waved her away with a smile, ‘I can do it, my dear, thank you.’ 

Bass glanced at Charlie.

She gave him a tiny nod, although she was still pissed… 

He turned back to William. ‘Thanks for the hospitality, and your promise of safety.’ He looked the older man in the eye. ‘So how can we help you?’

Petra interrupted. ‘Before we talk about that, I just wanted you to know that the rumours about you don’t matter to us, General Monroe. We don’t believe that you dropped the bombs on Philadelphia and Georgia, nor do we believe a lot of the other things we’ve heard, especially from certain people who call themselves Patriots.’ Anger flashed across her face, ‘but we do believe that you and General Matheson tried your best to help people after the Blackout by starting the Republic. And we also believe that the Patriots had a lot to do with it going so wrong.’ She drained her glass and put it down. ‘Our scouts have found out that they had agents planted in your own government from the beginning. That their job was to disrupt it, to destroy the partnership between you and General Matheson and set the events in motion that led to the Tower, the bombs and the return of so called President Davis once Ben Matheson was found and there was a way to make Rachel Matheson talk.’ 

Bass stared into space, eyes haunted. ‘Unfortunately they did a good job of all of that.’ He’d known things had gone badly wrong of course, although at the time he’d had his head so far up his own paranoid fucking ass he hadn’t known what to do about it and instead of investigating properly he’d blamed all the wrong people. People like Jeremy and Emma. Miles, although he’d known Rachel was guilty as hell. Then once he saw the symbol on those damned wanted posters, the same one that’d been on Flynn’s ring, the puzzle pieces fell into place. The damn patriots were way too well organised and far too well established to have just come up from Cuba. They had to have been here from the beginning, hell, from before the beginning. 

Petra’s hand brushed against her glass, nearly knocking it over but catching it just in time. ‘But none of that matters now, not really. There’s something else more important.’ She turned to Charlie. ‘Charlotte, I need to ask you about your parent’s work. Did your mother mention anything about using the nanotech to heal anyone? Can you remember seeing anything… unusual? Did you or anyone close to you get better from something so fast that it seemed like a miracle?’

A picture of Danny flashed into Charlie’s mind, there’d been something about Danny being alive because of something to do with nanotech… not that it had done him any good in the end, he’d still died.

William held his hand up. ‘Slow down a little my dear. Give the poor girl time to think.’ He turned to Charlie and Bass. ‘I’m so sorry. My wife is very tired. Last night was quite stressful for her. I was a little unwell.’

Petra snorted. ’A little unwell my ass. You were dead, William. Your heart had stopped beating and I couldn’t revive you.’ 

William held out his hands and indicated himself with a flourish, looking around the room. ‘But as you can see I’m not dead, in fact I’m doing very well.’ 

Sam shifted on his seat, chewing his lip…

Petra ran her hand restlessly over the arm of her chair. ‘You were dying,’ she turned to him, her face tight and the lines around her mouth harsh. ’And I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it except try an experimental formula intravenously that was developed as a simple tonic, not a cure.’ There were tears in her eyes and she brushed them away with a careless hand, ‘and then you died. You were dead for more than two hours, William, Sam was there, he saw you as well,’ she glanced at Sam for confirmation. 

He nodded. 

‘And then you came back.’ She was staring at him, ‘and I don’t know how.’

William reached for her hand, ‘But I am back, my love, and much, much better, so it must have been your new potion.’ 

She shook her head ‘It couldn’t have done that, not the way I designed it. What happened was unbelievable, unprecedented. I can’t explain it, William.’ She swallowed and took a deep breath, ’and what about the plants? They’re changing, mutating faster than I’d have believed possible… And those green lights, what are they?’

Charlie had already noticed a subtle, flickering green glow at the centre of the flowers hanging around the room, and there’d been the fireflies earlier, but compared to everything else that was going on, green bugs were maybe the least of their worries.

William was looking at the vines, a little smile on his face. He didn’t seem worried either.

Petra glanced at them too for a moment, wonder and a scientist’s calculation fighting for room on her face, then she turned to Charlie and Bass, ‘and it all started when you two got here.’ 

There was silence in the room. Even the rustling of the vines seemed quieter.

Charlie felt as though she was in one of Aaron’s stories. ‘But why? And how?’ 

‘Do you really think it’s something to do with Charlie?’ Bass glanced sideways, seeing Charlie’s confusion, the strain on her face. ‘Are you saying the nanotech is alive? That it’s following Charlie around because her mom invented it?’

Petra leaned towards them, ‘I don’t know, all I do know is I’d been working on a new formula, hoping to reduce the effects of William’s condition but it hadn’t worked, at least it didn’t until last night when I couldn’t think of anything else to try,’ her narrow dark eyes were piercing, intent. ‘It didn’t work until you two were here in Xanadu. I don’t know if Sebastian has anything to do with it yet but Charlotte, you are the daughter of Ben and Rachael Matheson and this has to be connected to what they were working on. I read their papers, we both did.’ She glanced at William.

He nodded. ‘It is hard to believe it’s a coincidence, and besides, our scouts have reported other things too. There’s a town in Texas, Lubbock where some kind of religious cult has started up and there are stories of healings there that are incredible...’ 

Petra looked down for a moment, then back at Charlie. ‘I met your parents when I was working with the DOD, I know how brilliant your mother is and that your dad was working on more applications for the technology, something much more interactive.’ She gripped William’s hand, forgetting to be careful although he didn’t flinch. ‘I need you to tell me anything you can about their work, about what happened after the blackout, what caused the surge and why it stopped. Please. I need to understand. I need to be able to replicate the formula for William.’ She turned to Bass, ‘and I need to know what happened at the Tower because the stories started after that night, after the bombs.’

Charlie looked at Bass.

He shrugged and began to talk. 

………………………………………………

Petra put her plate back on the table with the other cluttered remains of the meal they had eaten during the last half hour then she sat back. ‘That’s quite a story.’ 

William nodded. ’I’m sorry to hear about your father and brother Charlotte, and your friends. So many people have lost so much.’ He glanced over at Bass, sympathy in his eyes. ‘But I think I understand a lot of things much better now.’ 

Bass was staring straight ahead, his eyes unreadable, face a mask, and he waited. It had been a case of trust, or not trust, tell or not tell and something about William and Petra, some urge to confession and a need for Charlie to know his side of the story had persuaded him to tell the truth, most of it anyway. Some parts of it weren’t his to tell and some of the things he actually did say he was pretty damn sure Miles and Rachael wouldn’t have wanted Charlie to hear, ever. But she was an adult and he respected her strength and spirit. She deserved the truth. But he sat there waiting to see what she’d do next, hoping that he wouldn’t see that hatred back in her eyes. Hoping that he hadn’t blown anything that they might have had together into a million fucking pieces. 

He felt her shift next to him, felt her move a little closer and his heartbeat sped up, the beats thudding in his ears. 

Petra spoke up first though, her eyes stony, face set in cold lines. ‘So it was Randall Flynn who sent the bombs?’ She turned to William, ‘I never liked him, Bill. There was always something off about him and even more so after his son was killed. Grief can do awful things to people I know but…’ Her face fell and she trailed off, ’I’m sorry.’ she turned back to Charlie and Bass. ‘We’ve been hiding safe down here while you’ve all been living through one dreadful thing after another.’

Sam shuffled in his seat.

William was just watching, his face kind.

Charlie sat very still for a moment. ’We’ve all seen bad things, done bad things…’ She looked up at Bass, her eyes were deep and full of pain but there was understanding, compassion and something more than that there too, even with all the crap he’d rolled out in front of her. 

He let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

She reached out and took his hand, laced her fingers through his, held his eyes. ‘But that’s not all we are, or all we can be.’ 

All he could do was look at her, hoping she could see the promise in his eyes. 

Petra didn’t seem to notice. ‘I’m going to have to talk to your mother, Charlotte. I’m sure she can help us work out what’s going on.’ She sounded matter of fact, calm as she turned to her husband. ‘William? I need you to organise a way for me to talk to Rachael Matheson.’

…………………………………………………

William and Petra were still discussing ways to do that as a slightly more relaxed Sam led them to the arena where Thea had arranged a demonstration match between her and Bass. Apparently, everyone wanted to see the swordsman she’d been talking about, and see if she could beat him, 

Charlie felt Bass close behind her, moving with his usual predatory prowl but after everything that had just happened, every step he took beside her, every brush of his arm against hers sent a shiver of new awareness through her whole body. Her skin felt raw, exposed, alive. He’d let himself be so vulnerable back there and he’d almost expected her to abandon him for it, she’d seen it on his face. 

She turned and met his eyes, close, intent and she found herself lost in deep blue pools, tripping on something, almost falling. 

‘Charlie,’ He caught her, pulling her into his arms and pressing her up against the wall, his mouth suddenly hot and urgent on hers, his body, big and warm and hard surrounding her, one of his hands taking hers and stretching her up, his other around her waist, lifting her so he could take her lips more easily. 

Her legs wrapped themselves around his, her thighs straining as she pulled him in even closer and the vines on the wall behind her felt as soft as cushions, the scent of the white flowers stronger, musky, more potent. The thought that maybe they liked it went across her mind, then disappeared as she fell into the kiss…

Sometime later, Charlie gradually became aware of someone nearby clearing their throat, loudly. 

Bass chuckled against her mouth, kissed her again hard then let her slide down till she was standing on her feet.

She opened her eyes, made sure her knees were going to hold her up and looked over his shoulder.

Sam was standing a little way away, carefully looking anywhere but at them, his white hair standing up in spikes where he’d been running his hands through it. ‘Sorry, folks, but we need to get going.’ He put his ear to one of the flowers, listened then let it go, ‘everyone’s waiting for us.’

Bass turned around, amused, ‘I feel like I’m in a show.’

Sam grinned, ‘it gets a bit like that around here but hey, you’re the star, enjoy it.’

He led them through yet more vine hung corridors to an archway that opened up onto a stone amphitheatre that spread out in a horseshoe shape in front of them. 

The arena looked like the pictures Charlie had seen of ancient buildings in Greece and Rome with raked rows of stepped stone benches surrounding a wide circular floor covered in sand. High above their heads, a soaring domed ceiling let in bright shafts of daylight through slitted openings in the stone and more stained glass. The light made even brighter by mirrors and huge bronze reflectors set along the walls. 

Seated on the benches were what looked like hundreds of people, including Scouts in motley green and other spectators in all the colours of the rainbow, the hum of excited voices ebbing and flowing like a tide.

Just inside the arena they came to a large alcove set into the walls and Sam led them inside.

Inside, Bass looked around, his eyes intense, the General again. There was a huge selection of weapons hanging from racks on the walls or propped on wooden frames on the floor. Long swords, sabres in different styles and weights, rapiers, short swords, daggers, shields of all sizes and shapes, throwing stars, spears and much, much more. Hanging on racks at the back of the room there was a selection of light body armour, mostly hardened leather but some metal pieces – even chain mail. It was all good quality and well used. He turned to Sam ‘so is all this made here?’ 

‘Oh yes.’ Sam smiled, proud. ‘A lot of the recreationist people ended up here, so we’ve got some really good blacksmiths and weapons specialists.’ 

‘Very impressive’

Charlie watched as he walked around checking things out. He hefted swords, checked the draw on bows, swung axes and tested shields with the confidence of a connoisseur. 

Thea appeared at the entrance, her tall dark form silhouetted against the light outside. Her eyes swept over each of them, almost smiling. ‘Good morning, and thanks for doing this, we don’t often get the chance to see new techniques.’ she swept a hand out the arena, ‘and as you can see, we’ve got a pretty good audience.’ She was dressed in similar clothing to the previous day, a black jumpsuit with an extra layer of leather as light armour that covered her chest and groin. She looked strong and competent. Dangerous.

Charlie nodded back, although she was feeling just a little intimidated, not that she’d ever admit it of course. But she’d seen Bass fight, and no matter how good this woman was, she couldn’t be as good as him. 

The scout came in to join them, walking up to Bass. ‘I thought we’d start off with a warm up match.’ She tipped her head towards the weapons. ‘Double blade or blade and shield?’ 

Bass nodded, ‘I’ll take blades.’ He was almost surprised to find that he was looking forward to this. It had been a long time since he’d sparred just for the pleasure of it, most of his recent use of swords had been deadly serious. He glanced over at Charlie. Except for his practice bout back at their campsite… She looked back at him, her eyes glinting, lips curved in a smile that rocketed down his spine, doing things to his dick that were definitely not suitable for an audience. 

‘Sounds good to me.’ She looked down and smirked, ‘he’s very good with a sword.’

Sam rolled his eyes.

Thea’s full lips curved a little more and she winked at Charlie as she walked past to the sword racks. Her long legs making the distance seem short. 

Bass followed, choosing a sabre and a machete. The shorter sword served a double role as blade and shield and the combination was one he’d used for a long time. The swords felt familiar and comfortable in his hands. 

Thea chose a rapier and a small round shield as her second piece, manoeuvrable and versatile. protection without too much weight. 

Bass approved, he also approved of the way she was assessing him, watching how he moved to find any weakness. He was doing the same. He found some body armour in his size and put it on. The swords weren’t sharpened but could still deliver a punishing blow if they connected. Then he turned and Charlie was right there in front of him, small compared to the other woman but full of Matheson spunk. Her eyes gleaming, hair in long shining strands around her shoulders, she was checking him out from head to toe with a hand braced on her hip. 

He grinned, she was something to see.

‘Hey you,’ she grinned back, if she couldn’t use his real name she wouldn’t use any. 

‘Hey you too.’

She moved closer, her head tipped up so she could look straight in his eyes, ‘I want you to remember something when you’re out there with her.‘ Her eyes caught the light from one of the reflectors and narrowed against the glare, the look on her face fierce, the smile turning predatory. 

He loved that, loved her spirit. ‘Remember what?’

‘That I’m watching you.’ Her eyes slanted up at him and the smile grew teeth. 

He nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching. Charlie Matheson Jealous? He should be so lucky. He leaned forwards and kissed her, her lips full and warm and lithe under his, her body soft and strong and eager as she pressed up against him and for a long, long moment everything else vanished except the feel of her. Then somehow, past the feel of her in his arms, Bass heard a noise nearby and broke the kiss, his hand instinctively reaching for a blade.

Sam was standing a few feet away, tapping his foot and fanning himself vigorously ‘don’t you two ever quit? You’re heating up the place.’

Charlie laughed while she untangled herself although her cheeks were pink and her heart pounding. ‘You and Jen were busy doing the same thing last night Sam, and I didn’t hear anyone complaining about the heat.’ 

Sam stopped fanning. ‘Who’s complaining? But we’d better go sit down so they can get started or we’ll be here all day…’ He winked at Bass and Thea, ‘have fun folks,’ and led Charlie off towards a couple of empty seats in a row close to the entrance of the arena, waving to Jen sitting with friends further up. 

Bass walked out into the arena with Thea but his eyes were following Charlie, watching the way she smiled and talked easily with the people around her, how her hair shone in the sunshine coming in from above, the way her ass looked in those tight black pants. He felt a surge of possessiveness and hunger for life that he hadn’t felt in years, and it was all because of her, Charlotte Matheson. 

There was a smile hovering around Thea’s full mouth. Then she saluted the crowd to cheers and loud, mostly inappropriate advice. ‘Are you ready, General?’ Her voice was low, calm.

He nodded, getting his mind on the job, ‘looking forward to it.’

She led him to a marked circle in the centre of the arena, her voice quiet, calm, ‘I served in your Militia as a Captain for five years before I found Xanadu, General.’ She turned to him, her eyes on a level with his as she took up a position opposite him, her feet sure, steady. ‘I saw how hard you worked to keep things going after General Matheson left and I know you didn’t send the bombs like the Patriots are saying.’ 

Bass had imagined how it had been in his city when the bombs went off so many times he saw every house, every hall, every school and bar burning night after night in his dreams, the screams of the people ringing in his ears. He was grateful that she didn’t believe he’d done it, but he’d been the one in charge, the one his people should have been able to depend on but instead they’d been burned alive in their own skin. Charlie had been right when she said that he’d sucked at his job.

But as he looked at Thea’s dark eyes, instead of the condemnation and even hatred he’d kind of expected, he saw compassion and understanding. 

It surprised him how much that meant. 

He settled into position and drew his swords, circling them to loosen up his wrists and get the feel of the new blades. ‘Thank you for your service Captain, and for your support.’ 

She looked at him for a long moment with a calm dignity, ‘You’re very welcome, General.’ Then she grinned, a dark eyebrow lifting, ‘although that doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.’ She brought her sword up in salute. ‘Are you ready?’ 

Bass laughed, starting to enjoy himself. ‘Easy’s no fun at all, Captain.’ He brought his own sword up, ‘Let’s do it.’

Shouts, cheering and wild applause echoed down from their audience as they started circling, getting the feel of the other’s movements and small tells. Almost equal in height and reach, the two fighters moved easily, smoothly, one dark, lithe and graceful, the other heavily muscled, powerful, golden brown curls and scruff catching the light. 

The crowd settled, except for the rustle of whispers passing from seat to seat. 

They started sparring in earnest and as sword clashed on sword in a display of skill and ability that kept everyone’s eyes on the arena, nobody noticed the vines spreading out like a green carpet around the walls, twining, climbing and reaching up towards the high ceiling like a movie set on fast forward. Or saw the heavy white flowers budding, growing, opening wide and nodding softly in their nests of unfolding leaves, each flower glowing with a centre of bright green fireflies.

……………………………………………………..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hi and thanks again :) I have the next and almost last chapter ready of this part of their story almost ready and I really hope to see you there. 
> 
> Wishing you all the best, cheers, Magpie


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: thanks so much for reading, and thank you for some lovely comments on the story so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter. There's one more - almost ready to go, I'll have it posted later today or tomorrow, hope to see you there, xx Magpie.

Bass and Thea were sparring on the sands of the arena in Xanadu, neither of them giving an inch. It was a friendly but obviously highly competitive fight and every eye in the place was fixed on them. Charlie sat forward on the crowded stone bench, careful not to dig her elbows into Sam or the pile of young, awestruck and giggling girls sitting in a tangle of coltish arms and legs on her other side. She was enjoying the sight of Bass Monroe with swords swinging as much as any of them, although part of her was also loving seeing a woman hold her own against one of the best swordsmen in the country. 

There was no reason for her, or anyone else to look up.  
................................ 

The Nano assembly observed the two humans and their audience far below it/them from myriad viewpoints in the flowering vines that clung, tendrils curling to the walls of the auditorium. While it/they watched, part of the assembly was prompting the genetically enhanced plants to keep accelerating their already vigorous growth rate, an easy task as they were highly receptive, even eager. A spiraling, luminous surge of energy flowed through the assembly as the vines sent their tendrils weaving and winding around the inside surfaces of the human construct/building in a joyous, rippling and ever-expanding wave of lush green. 

The experiment was both fascinating and profitable. The plants were biochemical powerhouses, producing extraordinary amounts of energy that could be harvested for assembly sustenance and ongoing replication. A sub assembly was investigating ways of expanding the application to other plant species, outside the place called Xanadu. 

Leaving the sub-assembly to do its work, the Nano turned it’s/their attention back to two particular humans in the group gathered in the space below. 

Charlotte Matheson and Sebastian Monroe were part of the Nano’s creator network, and along with Aaron Pittman, Rachel Matheson and several other humans had been monitored since the Nano’s awakening at the place they called the Tower. 

Recent interesting and unexpected changes in the relationship between Charlotte and Sebastian had prompted the establishment of several sub-assemblies to evaluate them. The nano was very curious.

………………………………………….

Bass and Thea had been going for what felt like ages to Charlie although by the sun it had been no more than an hour, but not one single person on the crowded benches had left their seat. Everyone wanted to see how their so far undefeated Master of arms would rate against the new guy.

She watched him, her eyes following his strong, graceful body as he moved over the sand, his muscled arms and handsome face gleaming with sweat. Bass, aka Sebastian Monroe/Jimmy King, former Marine, ex General, ex-President and Dictator of his own Republic, ex Prize-fighter for coin in a whore house and somehow ex enemy and now lover. She’d thought she was over being surprised at the twists life threw at her and her family, but no… she wasn’t.

The two soldiers circled each other, swords and bodies sometimes a blur of speed, sometimes slow and deliberate, each testing the other’s skill and stamina. Both were dripping with sweat, their hair and clothes dark with it, occasionally and quickly rubbing it away from their eyes with a forearm or the back of a hand, careful to keep the other in sight.

Both wore identical, wide grins. Two sets of white teeth flashing.

Charlie chuckled. They were totally enjoying this, and as neither of them was showing any sign of conceding or even slowing down it was likely they’d keep going for some time yet. Then she jumped as Thea got in a hit, a strike to the shoulder with the flat of her sword along with shouts and cheers of encouragement from the audience as Bass staggered, nearly falling.

There were gasps and more cheers as he recovered quickly with a twisted leap, then circled in a graceful pirouette combined with a furious lightning flurry of strokes in a counter attack that had people surging to their feet, excitement skittering round the benches in a flurry of voices. 

Thea stumbled back, thrown off balance, her dark eyes wide and startled. Then as Bass hit the back of her knees, she tumbled to the ground, landing in a roll that somehow had her back on her feet again almost as soon as she went down, sword and shield up and ready. 

They simply shook the sweat out of their eyes and kept going.

………………………………………..

The Nano observed as the vines drew on the nutrients in the earth and the solar energy above, their growth increasing exponentially, noting the surge in chemical markers analogous to the human emotions of intoxication, pleasure and satisfaction.

Another sub-assembly convened to study this response while the plants grew faster, thicker, reaching for the skylights and starting to wind themselves around the top benches and nearer to the humans sitting there. 

The Nano concluded that continued exponential growth would be counter-productive at this time and prompted the vines to stop. 

The plants ignored the prompt completely, in fact growth increased. 

The Nano tried again, then again, but there was no response.

The vines grew faster.

………………………………………….

Charlie sat back again, a little smile on her face as she studied the way Bass Monroe moved. He was graceful, sure-footed and apparently tireless on the churned and sweat damp sand, his blades moving in arcs that caught the sun in streaks and flashes of light. He was holding a lot back though. She knew that. She’d seen him fight for real, and even though she’d been drugged and nearly unconscious back in Pottsboro, the sight of him moving like a deadly, whirling force of nature through the guys in that bar was engraved on her brain. 

He was complicated, and damaged. But then so was she, she just hadn’t realized just how much they were alike in that. Maybe that was why she found him so compelling. They kind of matched each other. Her mind drifted back to their morning in bed, and the night before and she grinned again. Ok, so they matched each other really, really, well. She shifted again on the bench, wishing she was pressed up against something equally as hard but much more satisfying then looked up to find his eyes on her, that now familiar hot challenge in the blue sending sparks all the way down to her clit. He winked, lips twisted in a wicked grin.

The man had to be psychic…

She shivered, little shocks of arousal shooting through her just from him looking at her. She pressed her thighs together, trying to ease the aching need, her mind drifting back to seeing him practice in the clearing, his bare chest and sunlit hair a revelation, his swords like deadly, flashing extensions of his arms. His beautifully muscled strong arms, those long, hard legs, his... Damn, he had way too many clothes on right now. She sighed again, heavily this time, then started tapping out a beat from the drumming the night before on her knees to try to take her mind off naked Bass... 

Sam turned his head a tiny bit, not moving his gaze from the match. ‘Shh…’ 

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms then slumped back on her bench, legs out in front of her, feet resting on her backpack, wincing at the pins and needles in her butt. A huge yawn cracked her face…

Bass saw the yawn and his smile got wider. Time to finish things up. He rolled his shoulders and settled into position.

Thea noticed, her brow creasing just a little, eyes narrowed. Then she nodded, wiped her head with the back of a hand and got ready.

He nodded back. He’d known just how good the ex-Militia Captain and now Xanadu scout was within the first few seconds of their sparring match and his respect for her had deepened during the bout. She was strong, agile and fought strategically without wasting energy on unnecessary flourishes. He was impressed. But none of that mattered because she just wasn’t good enough to beat him. She didn’t have his experience, his skill, or the years of sparring against an opponent like Miles Matheson. 

He moved in and stepped up the pace, forcing Thea onto the defensive with a double bladed assault so fast and furious that there was a Mexican wave of gasps from the audience. 

Despite a valiant effort to regroup her sword went flying one way and her shield the other and she ended up on her knees, hands up in surrender.

For a moment there was absolute silence. Then wild applause and cheering shook the arena as Bass sheathed his swords and reached down to help Thea to her feet.

Charlie applauded with the rest. She hadn’t doubted that he’d win although couldn’t quite understand why he’d taken so damn long about it. She watched as he and Thea walked towards her, deep in animated conversation, her dark head bent towards his lighter one. 

Suddenly cries of alarm burst from the upper tiers and everyone looked up. 

Sam swore and stared, his face nearly as white as his hair.

Charlie’s mouth dropped open as the walls and ceiling moved, writhing with vines and flowers that definitely hadn’t been there before the fight.  
………………………………………….

The Nano assemblies retreated, unable to slow the ever-increasing growth rate of the vines, leaving the plants – and the humans, to their own devices. There was some evidence that it was the presence of the Nano that was contributing to the problem anyway. The experiment was abandoned, for now.  
………………………………………….

Petra appeared, running towards them, a large carpetbag in her hand. ‘Come with me Sam, Charlotte, quickly…’ Her voice rose over the noise of the crowd as she beckoned for Bass and Thea to follow them then turned and ran back the way through the arched entrance to the arena. 

Charlie grabbed their crap and ran to catch up with her, aware of Bass and Thea closing in behind her and Sam behind them, a little slower and puffing. 

‘Bill’s helping the others,’ Petra’s face was tense, tight as she looked over her shoulder out of the shadows of the corridor. ‘I’m taking you down to the stables. We’ve got to get you out of here.’ She shuffled the bag from one hand to the other as she ran. ‘I’m hoping that whatever it was that followed you here will follow you out again – things should return to normal then.’ She shrugged, ‘at least I hope so…’ 

Bass caught up with Charlie, stripping off his body armor as he ran. He reached down, taking his pack from her and slinging it over his shoulder. He met her eyes for one searing moment then kept running beside her through what seemed like endless, vine hung corridors, the air thick with the sweet scent of flowers and green.

By the time they reached the stable complex they were all panting and Sam was lagging far behind, struggling to catch his breath.

Their wagon was waiting for them, the horses already harnessed and being walked by one of the Scouts. The man saw them coming, turned the team and backed the bays in, his hands flying as he hitched them up to the wagon.

Another team of Scouts were busy loading piles of bags and boxes into the back of the wagon. 

Bass turned to Petra, his voice harsh. ‘Our weapons?’ 

‘In the wagon.’ she was panting as she gave him the bag. ‘Your clothes are in here, Thea and Sam are going with you, to see you on your way.’ 

‘Thanks.’ He took the bag, slinging it up behind the bench seat, his eyes sweeping over the rig, checking on the horses and the harness.

Petra turned to Charlie, ‘I’ve given you some samples of my work to take to your mother, Charlie. Plants and seeds, preserves, preparations, copies of my notes – she’ll know what to do with them. And even if you’re captured, they’ll just look like recipes, trading goods and ordinary medical supplies.’ She bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath, looking up at them through strands of long, dark hair, ‘I’ve written a letter too, in a code she’ll recognize telling her what happened to William, and the vines.’ She stood again, looking at Charlie and Bass in turn, her eyes full of concern, but determined too. ‘I’m so sorry, I wish we could have given you some more time. But you can see what’s happening, we can’t risk it – something’s happened to the Nano, something very strange and it’s affecting my plants. You have to lead whatever it is away from here and to Rachael so she can deal with it.’ 

Charlie doubted that. Her mother had been a basket case when she left and probably still couldn’t deal with anything more complicated than changing her socks. But Petra was right. If her mom and maybe Aaron couldn’t figure it out, no one could. She didn’t know what had made the plants do what they were doing, and what the green lights had to do with it, but if it was something to do with what had happened at the Tower and if whatever it was had followed her here then it was up to her to take it to her mom. She looked up at Bass, and found him looking down at her, his eyes full of the tears that she’d thought were just an act back in that pool. 

She didn’t realize that hers were the same until his face became as hazy as if she was seeing him underwater. Which she was… 

He pulled her into his arms. ‘Hey.’

She stretched up to put hers around his neck so that he could hold her even closer and breathed him in. Sweaty from the fight, he smelled wonderfully, perfectly male, and she kissed him as though it was the last time she would ever kiss him, his lips and tongue as desperate as hers, their breath mingling. 

‘Charlie,’ his voice was a whisper against her mouth. ‘Charlotte, if we forget all this, thanks for believing me and for letting me close to you.’ 

Her voice broke, stupid. ‘Bass…’ and damn it she was crying for real now. 

He wiped the tears away with a big hand. ‘It’ll be ok,’ His eyes shimmered down at her, ‘we were getting along pretty well before all of this, weren’t we? We’ll just start over if we have to.’ His lips twitched, ‘you can even try running away again if you like.’

She choked off a laugh, then licked her lips, tasting him there, ‘only if you promise to come find me again.’

He pressed a kiss into her hair. ‘Always will…’ Then he let go of her, both of them turning as Sam arrived, gasping and panting, coming to a halt next to Petra. 

She turned to him – saying something in an whisper. 

He nodded, serious, then glanced at Bass and Charlie, his eyes warm with a tinge of regret, ‘It's been fun, good luck you two,’ He headed around to the front of the wagon, climbing up onto the bench seat.

Thea came back from where she’d been helping load the wagon, a hand held out to Bass. ‘Thank you, General… Bass.’ She gave him a quick smile as he took her hand and shook it, ‘it was a good fight, but you’ll find me much harder to beat next time.’ 

He nodded, ‘I’ll look forward to it, Captain.’ 

She gave him another tight smile, her eyes scanning the ceiling where green tendrils were starting to spread out, leaves and tiny buds nodding and getting bigger as she watched. ‘We’d better get going.’ 

‘Ok.’ Charlie checked her belt, making sure she had everything.

‘You really do have to go now.’ Petra sounded tense, urgent. ‘We’ll send a small group of Scouts along a few days behind you, Thea will lead them, she’ll find some way of contacting you and bringing a message back to us from Rachael.’ She led them to the back of the wagon where there were another two horses saddled for riding tied on. She turned to Charlie ‘I'm so very grateful for what your coming did for William – I wouldn’t have him now if it wasn’t for you, and whatever it is that your mother created.’ Her hands were twisted together in front of her, fingers nervous. ‘It’s just that we have to think of all the others here as well, and until we know how to control whatever this is, we can’t risk Xanadu.’ 

Charlie gave her a little smile ‘It’s ok, really, we understand.’ She glanced up at Bass who nodded and reached for her hand. She swallowed a lump in her throat. ‘I’m glad about William and I’m sorry that it’s all gone crazy.’ 

Bass tightened his grip on her hand a little and rubbed his thumb over her palm. 

She squeezed back, she couldn’t forget, wouldn’t forget.

Another Scout brought a tray over to them. Two small bottles were on it and Petra handed one each to Bass and Charlie. ‘I’m sorry about this, but we have to keep our location safe, even from new friends.' She looked a little embarrassed, 'I had to mix it in a hurry and I’m not completely sure I got the balance right, you’ll sleep for a few hours but I really don’t know how much you’ll remember about us, after, I tried to make it so you wouldn't forget too much but its hard to be sure...’ Her eyes held an apology. ‘Sam’s going to drive for now, so you can both lie down in the back, we’ve made some space. You’ll be out of it, but the others will make sure you’re safe.’ She gave them each a quick hug. ’Take care. And good luck…’ 

Charlie looked at the little bottle, the liquid inside was a greenish gold and smelled of honey. She lifted it up, holding on to Bass with her other hand, ‘see you on the other side, ok?’

He clinked his bottle against hers, his eyes on hers, deep blue pools. ’You can bet on it.’

He kept his eyes on her as he tossed the drink back. 

Charlie did the same, the liquid going down like thick, sweet whisky. Almost straight away her head started to swim and she blinked, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. Drugged again, although this time it was voluntary. She knew she’d better get horizontal fast though. ‘Shit, that’s strong stuff.’ She shook her head, trying to clear it, then climbed up into the wagon, the steps feeling rubbery, the distance between them shifting like sand…

Petra smiled, although her eyes were nervous and she kept glancing up at the ceiling where the rustling of leaves was audible, ‘stay safe...’ 

Bass climbed up behind Charlie and Petra closed the door, leaving them alone in the shadowy space. Their bedrolls had been laid out side by side in the middle, between neatly stacked wooden boxes secured by ropes to the floor and sides of the wagon.

Charlie swayed, it felt as though the wagon was already moving.

Bass knelt down onto one of the bedrolls and reached up for her, his hands steady but rippling like fins.

She giggled…

He took one of her hands, the hard, male angles of his face softened in the shadows. ‘Charlotte. Come here before you fall over.’

She giggled again. Shit. She never giggled, she hated girls who giggled. Then her knees started wobbling as she stared at him, fascinated, He looked amazing, his hair was damp with sweat, the curls tight and his scruff seemed to gleam, little curls twisting around his lips. And his face, she blinked. ‘You’ve got such a pretty face, Monroe.’ 

He laughed, the sound low and sexy, vibrating the air between them. He pulled her towards him, ‘you aren’t so bad yourself, Matheson...’

She just managed to get down onto the bedrolls without completely falling on her face, her head sinking onto his shoulder like it belonged there. She rolled against his familiar hard, warmth, pressing herself against him as closely as she could as she felt the wagon start to move out. 

He leaned over, the width of his shoulders and his strong arms surrounding her, his eyes like bits of the sky... 

Her lips met his and she floated into the sensation, his body a hard strength around her, her hands roaming over his chest, his shoulders, memorizing the feel of him, the smell and the taste of him. Then she felt her eyes drift closed, the soft cushions of sleep pulling her down, and down.

Bass held her as she fell asleep, not wanting to lose a moment of having her to himself. He was drifting off too, the motion of the wagon and the familiar sounds of horses hooves soothing. But he fought it for as long as he could, his hands stroking her hair, fingers gently roving over the contours of her face, committing every line to memory. He forced his eyes open, so he could keep looking at her.

Her eye lashes were long and dark golden brown against her smooth, tanned skin, the little hollow at the base of her throat was a lovely shadow, her shoulders smooth and rounded, her small, full breasts rising and falling in the regular rhythm of sleep. His eyes traveled down to the strip of smooth skin visible at the bottom of her tank, above her jeans. God, he loved those little glimpses of her belly and back as she walked. He’d be happy to watch her walking all day long. As long as it was towards him. 

He kissed her lightly once more then lay back, keeping her pressed tightly against him, making sure she was comfortable, safe, the bedroll tucked around her so she couldn’t roll against the boxes. He pulled the blanket up around her in case she got cold.

His last conscious thought was a memory of how she’d looked when he woke up that morning, all bright hair, golden skin and lush beautiful body, and how good it had been to feel her around him as he made love to her. Charlie Matheson and Bass Monroe, who the fuck would have thought it. 

And what’d happen when Miles and Rachel found out? Fuck, there’d be hell to pay knowing those two. He laughed softly, holding her tighter, because neither of them were exactly qualified to take the high ground about anything.

Then everything faded to velvet black.  
……………………………………………


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: thanks so much for reading, and thank you for your lovely comments and kudos, I hope you enjoy this last chapter and I’m sending you all my best wishes for the new year!! I hope it’s going to be a good one for all of us. Cheers, thanks again and hope to see you at another story, xx Magpie.

Charlie woke up on her bedroll around their campfire. Which was weird because it was late afternoon by the sun and she never slept during the day. She did a quick inventory. Nothing was hurting, in fact she was feeling pretty damn good. Then she checked her weapons. She was wearing her chain belt, but her knives weren’t on it.

She sat up, her pack was sitting next to her bedroll, bow and quiver leaning on it. Ok, so she had her stuff, that was good. She looked around, eyes searching. Where was he? She found the wagon a little way away and let out the breath she’d been holding. Then she spotted a familiar tall figure. He was with the horses on a stretch of grassy ground near the wagon, all three heads close together, two brown, one blond. His hands moved slowly over their ears and down the curved, muscled necks to the powerful, glossy chests. His fingers gentle, possessive, caressing. She could hear him talking to them, his voice soft, the words indistinct and the horses stood quietly while he stroked them, almost as though they were listening…

She wriggled her way out of the bedroll, put her boots on and walked over towards him. She knew that he heard her coming because his hands stopped moving and his body went completely still.

He moved slowly away from the horses and turned to face her. ‘Charlotte. How are you feeling?’ His voice was calm, polite, eyes and face neutral, non-committal, empty.

She slowed down, stopping a little way away from him, not sure what was happening. ‘I’m ok, how about you?’ Had he forgotten?

He took a sharp breath in as though he was going to say something, and his eyes flickered. His hands tightened at his sides, but he didn’t move. 

She thought she understood. ‘Bass, I remember.’ She moved towards him, hoping that she wasn’t making a mistake but willing to try. ‘I remember everything.’ 

Suddenly he was there, in front of her, his eyes boring into hers. ‘Do you, Charlie?’ 

She felt suddenly uncertain. ’Yeah… What’s the matter?’ 

He caught his breath and looked away. ’I’m sorry.’ His eyes lost their color, becoming distant and remote as the sea in winter. ‘Whatever you remember. It was all just a dream. It… it can’t exist here.’ He turned back to the horses, tossing the words over his shoulder like they didn’t matter, like he didn’t know he was shooting her in the heart with every one. ‘That was another world, Charlie, and we have to live in this one.’

Charlie stood where he left her, stunned into silence for a long moment. Then her head went up. ‘I know you’ve been a lot of things Sebastian Monroe but I didn’t think you were a coward.’ 

He turned around, shocked. ‘What?’ 

She strode towards him. ‘This is just another one of your fucking stupid ways of asking me if I really want to be with you isn’t it?’ She was so furious. ‘How dare you do it to me again… you…you moron.’ She reached him and started pounding into him with her fists and feet, she was angry and devastated at the same time. So angry she wanted to hurt him, hurt him as much as he’d hurt her. After everything they’d been through, everything that had happened, he was backing out now?

He fell back under the onslaught. ‘Charlie… stop… please.’ He held his arms up trying to block some of her blows. ‘I’m sorry. I thought…’ He gave up trying to stop her and let the blows fall. ‘What about Miles and your mom?’ 

She stopped hitting him and stood panting, hands on hips, eyes blazing up at him. ‘What about them?’ 

Bass had never seen her like this, she was incandescent with fury. ‘Your mom hates me, Charlie, and Miles, he’ll think I’ve taken advantage of you, that I should have looked after you, not...’ 

’This has got nothing to do with my mom, or Miles.’ She interrupted him, her voice getting louder. ’This is about us, you and me, you dick. I don’t care what they think.’ 

Tears swam in her eyes, starred in her lashes and he watched as they started to spill, hating that he had been the one to put them there. 

She blinked, letting them fall. ‘Xanadu wasn’t just a dream, Bass Monroe, it actually happened. To you, to me, to us…’ She stood in front of him, hands at her sides, her eyes raw. ‘It was real. At least it was for me.’ She suddenly seemed smaller, deflated. ‘Unless you don’t want it to be?’ Her voice was small and sad and tired. 

He took a deep breath. ‘Charlie, you have no idea how much I want it, but you’re right.’ 

Her shoulders slumped and she sighed out a long breath, turning away, ‘So you don’t want me here, out in the real world. Ok, I understand.’ 

He reached out a hand but she pulled away, so he moved in front of her, leaning down so he could see her face.

She wouldn’t look at him. 

Shit. He tried again, ‘Charlie, I didn’t mean about that, of course I want you… Please? I’m begging you, look at me.’ 

She looked at him then, her eyes bruised.

’Charlotte Matheson’ he said gently, willing her to see that he was giving her the truth, giving her his soul. ‘You gave me a reason to want to live.’ He reached for her hands and this time she let him take them. ’But you’re right. I was being a coward. Before you found me back in New Vegas I’d been hiding, just waiting to die, or till someone finally got lucky and killed me like I deserved. Because I’d failed, everything, everyone.’ He licked his dry lips. ‘You woke me up, made me want something more, and once we got back out here I was so scared that you wouldn’t feel the same as me that I so I tried to make you back away. Charlie…I’m sorry.’ 

She went very still, then ever so gently pulled her hands from his, feeling his fingers slide warm and rough over hers. ‘So are you done... Being scared I mean?’ Her gaze was steady on him, no tears now, measuring, ignoring the pounding of her heart because she had to make sure. ‘Because if you’re still scared then we’ll just travel on to Willoughby to find Miles and my mom and pretend that it was all just a dream.’ She got up closer, ‘and whatever we had together, whatever could have been will just gradually fade away until there’s nothing left.’ Which was a total lie, but he didn’t need to know that because damn it, she wasn’t going to let it happen anyway. 

He looked at her. She was a Matheson, with all the stubborn that came with it and he knew that she absolutely meant what she said. He either stopped being shit scared, or he gave up whatever chance he might have had with her. It was all or nothing. 

Fuck it. To hell with being a coward - he was going to go for all of it. She was worth it. 

‘I’m done, Charlie.’ The corners of his mouth lifted – just a little. ’I mean you can be scary all on your own sometimes and explaining things to Miles and Rachael is going to be pretty interesting. But…’ He looked straight into her eyes, ’I promise you I’m done being scared of us.’ 

Her head tilted and she smiled up at him, the smile she’d given him in the pool that time, the one with teeth. ’That’s ok then.’ She turned to go.

He was the one confused this time. ’What… just ‘that’s ok then’?’ 

She looked back at him over her shoulder, eyes narrowed, that damn eyebrow of hers lifted and a tiny trace of dimple flickering beside her mouth. ‘That’s ok then and you’ve got some serious making up to do, Bass Monroe.’ She smirked up at him, turned on her heel and started walking back towards the campfire, her hips swaying and her belt jingling as she walked. 

‘Damn it Charlie,’ he stood there, feeling like a complete dick. ’You don’t just say ‘Ok then’ when someone…’ 

She kept on walking. 

He followed her. ‘Hey - are you listening to me?’

Charlie heard him coming up behind her and her grin got a little wider. She hadn’t traveled with Miles – and Monroe too for that matter, for so long without learning a little something about stubborn, complicated men. She ignored him and swung her hips a little more.

Suddenly she was up in the air, his arms hard under her knees and in a reflex movement her arms swung up around his neck to keep her balance and she found his lips on hers in a kiss that took her breath away and sent a shaft of sensation rocketing south. Her toes curled and her back arched, her nipples tingling…

He pulled back a little, shaking his head, his eyes laughing at her. ‘Charlie, you are the most incredible, infuriating and beautiful woman that I’ve ever had the good luck to fall in love with.’ He kissed her again then swung her down onto her feet, pulling her tight against him. her head falling back, dizzy. 

Her head was swimming with the kiss and the movement, ‘In love with?’ She had to lean on him to keep upright although his arms were so tight around her waist that she wouldn’t have fallen anyway.

His eyes were close, and intensely, incredibly blue. ‘Oh yeah,’ He started kissing her in earnest, his hands roving up and under her tank top, warm and rough on her back, flicking her bra open with a quick, clever movement and sliding underneath it to brush over her breasts… 

‘Bass?’ She was breathless and flushed ‘I like where we’re going with this,’ She gasped as his fingers found her nipples, teasing until they buzzed and tingled like two bees. ‘But have Sam and Thea gone?’ She caught her breath as his hands slid lower, down over the smooth skin of her belly and sides. ‘Oh…’ 

He laughed low in his throat, then pulled the bottom of her tank top up and over her arms and head in a single swift movement and flung it over his shoulder. His lips nuzzled her throat, leaving sparks behind them while his fingers returned to her breasts. ‘Yeah, Petra sent a rider, the plants stopped growing once we left so they stayed until I woke up and you were starting to move then they left. He glanced up at her, ‘so we’re all on our own, I guarantee it, and if the nano followed us they don’t seem to be doing anything weird.’ His eyes gleamed, ‘I even checked the place out for those damn vines.’ 

She ran a hand up his chest and shoulder, finding the curls at the base of his neck, ‘so why can we still remember everything?’ 

He slipped a bra strap over her shoulder and down her arm. ’Petra said she changed the formula this time, remember? She just made us go to sleep for a while so that we didn’t know where the place was.’ He frowned. ‘Now hold still, the damn strap’s tangled in your hair.’ A short moment later her bra went flying to join her tank. He smiled and licked his lips, brushing her hair back over her shoulders, ‘has anyone ever told you that you’ve got beautiful breasts, Charlie.’ 

Charlie couldn’t help herself, she laughed out loud, ’if they had I wouldn’t tell you.’ 

He bent and kissed one rosy nipple then the other, the soft hairs of his scruff tickling the sensitive skin and his tongue leaving little cool trails that sent shivers up and down her spine. ‘Probably a good thing, I won't have to go kill the men who said it.’

She looked at his face. He wasn’t joking. She arched her back to give him a better view, her eyes glinting, ‘then you’d better not tell me about your other women either.’

He grinned, eyes a wicked, hot blue. ‘Deal.’ Then he unbuckled her belt and thigh straps and slipped the buttons on her pants, sliding everything down over her hips and sinking down on his knees in front of her, his fingers stroking the bones of her hips and going down to brush the triangle of golden brown curls between her legs. ’You’ve got a beautiful pussy too.’ Two long fingers slipped between the neat fleshy lips, and he sucked in a breath when he found her hot and very, very wet. ‘A beautiful, wet, pussy…’

She leaned onto his fingers, her hands on his shoulders and her hips moving on their own, wanting more. Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned…

He took his fingers away, leaving her panting and ready to beg for more. Then he slid his hands round until he had an ass cheek in each hand, his fingers spreading out, holding her in place.

She couldn’t move, didn’t want to, the feel of him there, the look of him, the hard strength in his hands, his arms, everything made her blood race, her breath coming shallow and fast as though she’d been running.

He looked up at her and licked his lips, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned forwards, tongue flicking out to taste her, his lips spreading hers out...

The first soft touch of his tongue on her clit made her cry out, her hands clutching his shoulders and her knees buckling against his arms as he sucked and played with the little ridge of sensitive flesh with lips and tongue until she was trembling on the very edge of coming. Then just as she was about to fall boneless on top of him, he let go and stood up, catching her as she fell laughing into his arms again, carrying, her over to their bed rolls and setting her down. 

She watched, catching her breath, body buzzing with anticipation as he dropped down beside her, his strong hands pulling off her boots then her pants and panties in what felt like moments. 

‘I love your legs too,’ he moved between them, running his hands from her ankles up to her thighs then back again, guiding her knees over his shoulders, his fingers sliding along her thighs and to her hips then further round, his eyes gleaming. ‘And your ass.’ 

She looked down, his face was framed between her legs, his hands squeezing her ass cheeks, spreading her out so the breeze flowed over her wetness, bringing cool bumps that raced over her from toes to nipples. She shivered in a very, very good way. ‘So you’re kind of an everything man,’ she chewed on her lower lip as he slowly kissed his way along her thighs. Damn, it was getting harder to put words together, she just wanted him to do more and more... 

‘You could say that,’ his breath was hot between her legs, his kisses leaving tracks that his eyes followed. ‘Although I do have my favorites.’ 

Charlie gasped again, her back arching, arms flying out to her sides, hands desperately grasping for something, anything to hold on to as she felt his lips and tongue on her centre again, his teeth gently scraping her clit while his tongue plunged inside her desperately needy core. ‘Oh my God...’ She felt her hips rise to give him more access and he held her ass tighter, closer while he licked and sucked as though she were dessert. 

She felt the world kaleidoscope up and out into bright sparks and lightning flashes, while his blue eyes watched her, alight with bright blue fire as she came and came for him then finally fell back, breathless and boneless against the cushions they used as pillows. She lay there in a daze of total relaxation and awesome pleasure. A long strand of hair had landed across her face, tickling her nose, but her hand just didn’t want to move. She tried blowing… 

Bass Monroe sat back on his heels, a smile curving his lips, his lips and cheeks shining wet with her juices. Then he leaned forward and brushed the strand away, curling it around her breast. ’You look perfect just like that. Maybe you should just stay naked.’ 

Charlie opened one eye and lifted an eyebrow. ‘I will if you will.’ She looked pointedly at his clothing, which he still happened to be wearing and tipped her head. ’Get them off, Bass.’ 

He grinned ‘You’re a demanding woman, Charlie.’ He stripped off his pullover. 

She licked her lips, eyes dancing. ‘You better believe it. Now the rest.’ 

He stood up, tall and silhouetted against the afternoon sun. ‘Impatient too.’ He undid his belt and the buttons on his fly, but as he rolled the pants down he got them caught on his boots and staggered, nearly falling, then caught himself just in time. ’Damn…’

Charlie tried not to laugh but couldn’t help it, she couldn’t remember seeing Bass Monroe looking anything but graceful. 

He wrenched at the boots, flung them away and finally got out of the pants. 

‘Bass?’ 

‘Yeah?’ he was panting and a little flushed... 

She glinted up at him through her lashes. ’Would you do something for me?’ 

He took a deep breath. ‘Sure…’ 

‘Just stay there for a minute? I want to look at you.’ 

He chuckled and shrugged, then straightened up and stood tall, and even though he knew he had a good body, although he hadn’t always done the best thing by it, he was surprised to find that he felt just a little self-conscious as her eyes roamed over him, her lips curved into that gorgeous smile... 

Charlie breathed out a long, satisfied sigh. ‘You’re beautiful too.’ She reached a hand up and traced around his muscled, totally masculine shape in the air with her finger. The sun was sinking low behind him and for a moment it was as though her finger left a golden line hanging in the air around him. ‘And I love looking at you.’

He could feel the heat of her eyes on him, and could almost feel her finger as it moved. Then the finger moved lower and she traced another part of him, a part that was already doing its own pointing. 

He laughed, ’it’s not that big.’ 

She shrugged, that wicked grin spreading over her face, ‘It looks pretty big from down here.’ She spread her knees and stroked a hand down the front of her body, lingering over breasts and belly then sliding down to where he’d just been feasting, her fingers slipping through wet folds and pink, swollen flesh… 

‘Charlie...’ his voice was a hoarse whisper, his eyes fixed on her hand. 

Her fingers were wet, glistening. Her lips were too, tongue dipping out, ’Do you want to come down here now Bass?’ 

His eyes lit up like blue fires and then he was there on his knees between her legs, watching her, one hand lazily stroking the long, thick cock that rose hard and proud between his own. He leaned over her, his body big and strong arched above her, balanced on his other arm, his face full of lust and something much more than that. His breath caught as he moved gently and silken against her soft, wet center, his fingers sliding and twining together with hers over his cock and through her folds. Then he held himself steady at her entrance, the thick, domed head of his cock just a little way inside, stretching her, his flesh pulsing against hers. ‘Thanks for not taking any of my crap, Charlotte.’ His voice was a low murmur, his eyes close and as deep as some of the rock pools she’d seen in the mountains. 

She looked up at him, accepting his apology, knowing that he meant it, her whole body feeling vividly, brilliantly alive as he slid inside her, his cock pulsing, throbbing, stretching her out and filling her up again and again as she climbed higher and higher. ‘Just remember that the next time you feel like dishing some out, ok?’ Her voice was a gasping moan, her breath stolen away...

He laughed, his hands roaming up her body, over her belly and breasts, taking her hands and stretching them high above her head, holding her still as he pulled out and plunged in and out and in again until the world split into sparkling atoms around them with the two of them wrapped up together at the center of it.

…………………………………

Neither of them noticed a glittering cloud of small green lights high above them, circling and dancing intricate patterns around and between the nearby trees.   
………………………………

Epilogue: Around the campfire, a few days (and nights) later.

‘You promised you’d teach me, Bass.’

Bass sighed heavily. ‘I didn’t promise. You asked me to teach you. I didn’t say I would.’ 

‘But it’ll make me better at defending myself.’ 

He got up to poke the fire and check their dinner, ‘using two swords is complicated and dangerous, you could hurt yourself.’ He cleared his throat and glanced back at her, ‘or me.’

She grinned, then leaned forward and sniffed, ‘mmm… that smells really good.’ 

He chuckled ‘flattery will get you everywhere but there, Charlie.’ 

She sat back and reached for their plates. ‘Well at least let me watch when you practice, don’t try to go sneaking off again.’ 

’No point, you always find me…’ He turned, eyes glinting, ‘and you just want to watch because you think I do it naked.’ 

She laughed, ‘can’t argue with that, I’d look at you naked anytime.’ 

He turned the spit over, poking the rabbit roast with his knife. ‘This is nearly done.’ 

Charlie pouted, passing him the plates, ‘Bass…please?’ 

He took them, slicing thick, steaming portions of the juicy meat onto the dishes. ‘You don’t give up do you Charlie.’ 

She flashed her dimple at him. ’If you didn’t want to do it naked, we could do it topless. You said it was traditional.’ 

Bass Monroe took a deep, steadying breath, then let it out. The image of Charlie topless holding a sword was like something out of one of his adolescent, and to be truthful recent, fantasies. ’Charlotte, I lied. And besides, there’s no way I could concentrate if you were topless. I'd probably cut something important off. Something you’d miss.’ He sat down again and passed her a plate. ’Look, we’ve got a few more weeks on the road. I’ll show you what I can, ok? Maybe you’ll be able to stop Miles killing me when he finds out about us.’ 

She leaned over to kiss him, her lips greasy from the meat. ‘I knew you’d come around.’ She could see he was still worried about what Miles and her mother would say about them being together. Frankly she didn’t give a damn, although she would like Miles at least to be happy for her, for them both. ‘And don’t worry, I’ll look after you.’ 

He put his plate down and pulled her into his arms, ‘I know you will.’ He dropped a kiss on her full lips. ’Have I told you that you’re beautiful today?’

‘Yes, you have.’ she put her own plate down so she could kiss him back properly, ‘a couple of times, but you can always do it again.’

The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Well, that’s it for now… Thanks so much again for reading and I so hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> BTW, the concepts around the behaviour of the Nano Assemblies and sub-assemblies are very loosely based on writings about human consciousness by Susan Greenfield. 
> 
> Cheers and best wishes :D xx Magpie


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